PAUL AND JULIA; OR, THE POLITICAL MYSTERIES, HYPOCRISY, CRUELTY OF THE LEADERS OF Cljtirrlj nf JOHN CLAUDIUS PITRAT, OF THB UNIVERSITY OF FRANCE ; EX-KDITOR OF " LA PEESSE DU PECPU IW PABISi AUTHOR OF "JESUITS UNVKILKDj" AND FORMERLY A SO.VAF CATHOLIC PRIEST. BOSTON: EDWARD W. HINKS AND COMPANY. 1855. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 18S4, by EDW. W. HINKS & CO. AND J. C. PITRAT, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. THE AMERICAN PROTESTANTS, WHO EARNESTLY DESIRE TO TRANSMIT TO THEIR POSTERITY THE LIBERTIES AND PRIVILEGES BEQUEATHED TO THEM BY .THE IB FATHERS, WHO NOBLY FOUGHT, BLED, AND DIED, - IN WHICH THE ANTI-AMERICAN SPIRIT OF ROMANISM IS EXPOSED, IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. (3) Ig-fT To show that MR. PITRAT, the author of this work, was in good standing in the Romish Church, and that extraordinary exertions were made to retain him, the publishers submit the fol- lowing letters. EDW. W. HINKS & CO. NEW ORLEANS, April 2, 1850. VERT DEAR SIR : In the absence of my lord I have opened your letter. I can hardly believe that you have resolved to leave the minis- try. This news will afflict the heart of our bishop, who intended to call you near him, and to write to you about it. Please be not too hasty in your design. Reflect ; pray that God enlighten you. For my part I will pray, and will order prayers for you. The proof of confidence which you have given me induces me to request you to let me know what are your future projects. You know my friendship towards you. I have obtained from the bishop that you live with us in his house, you would have come to the city in May. Understand now how sad is my disappointment. I shall be very uneasy till I hear from you. Believe me, your very devoted friend, E. ROUSSELON, Vicar General. NEW ORLEANS, April 4, 1850. MYDEARMR.PJTRAT: I just return from a pastoral visit. I cannot express what I have felt in reading your letter of resignation. What ! is it possible, my dear priest, that having made the sacrifice of so many temporal advantages to be faithful to your ecclesiastical call- ing, you renounce it ? and this, when I intended to give you a home in my own house ? O, please, my dear priest, reflect. Your eternal salvation is at stake. I think that my kindness to you has some claim to my confidence. Please let me know what are your motives for leaving the ministry. Depend on my discretion. Be not hasty, and wait for a letter from me. If you prefer, go to Natchez for counsel. Pray to God with fervor, for you are about to sacrifice your temporal welfare and your eternity. I am about leaving for Red River ; but it matters not ; direct your letter to New Orleans ; I shall receive it. I will not forget you in my prayers. This morning I hve said the mass for you. Farewell again. Your devoted and affectionate servant, t ANT., Bishop of New Orleans. CONTENTS. I. Valley in the Caucasus, ...... 7 II. Enemies coming, 9 III. The Ossetes prepare themselves for Battle. Expla- nation between the Chiefs of the two Annies, . 14 IV. Julia entreating Karem for Prisoners, ... 22 V. Conversation of Julia with a Prisoner, ... 25 VI. Wakefulness of a Prisoner, 29 VII. The Lesguis leave the Valley. The Ossetes intend to attack them. Julia has disappeared. Expla- nation, 32 VIII. Scene in a Grotto of the Mountain, .... 36 IX. Scene between Karem and Isram, .... 89 X. Events in the Grotto, 41 XI. Visit to the Grotto of the Tombs, .... 44 XII. Paul commences an Account of hia Life, ... 52 XIII. Paul meets with a Monk, 56 XIV. Second Interview of Paul with the Monk, ... 59 XV. The Monk questions Paul, 63 XVI. Internal Struggles of Paul, 74 XVII. Utterance of Father Francis to Paul, . . . 79 XVIII. Profession of a Novice. Secret of Happiness, . 91 XIX. Paul falls in Love, 108 XX. Paul's Dreams of Love, 112 XXI. Paul in Athens, 114 XXII. Paul comes again to Naples. He meets with Father Francis, . ^^..- , 117 (5) 6 CONTEXTS. CHAPTER PAC XXIII. Paul's Despair 125 XXIV. Entrance of Paul into Religion. His Mother calls upon him, 129 XXV. Sufferings of Paul in the Convent. Letter of Attorney, 141 XXVI. Departure of Paul from Naples. He encounters his Mother in Constantinople. Scene between them and Father Ignatius, .... 155 XXVII. Father Ignatius and Paul embark to cross the Black Sea. Tempest. Shipwreck. Circum- stances that brought Paul on the Mountains. Recognizance, 171 XXVIII. Julia seeking Solitude. Internal Struggles of Paul, 180 XXIX. Happiness of the Inhabitants of the Valley of the Ossetes 187 XXX. Isram commences to relate to Paul the History of his Life. Place of his Nativity. His Travels through Europe. His Inquiries about Chris- tianity. His Investigations on Truth. He renounces his Religion, 190 XXXI. Various Christian Churches. Anecdote. Ro- manism, 205 XXXII. Return of Isram to Constantinople. End of the Relation of Isram. His Conversation with his Father on Christianity, Mahometanism, Roman- ism, and Christian Fraternity, .... 213 XXXIII. Chase. Paul's Resolution, 252 XXXIV. Disappointment of the Tribe of Ossetes by Paul's Departure, .' 258 XXXV. Paul in Naples. He calls upon the Reverend Father Francis 260 XXXVI. Disclosures, 265 XXXVII- Continuation of Disclosures. Conclusion, . . 296 is. CHAPTER J. VALLEY IN THE CAUCASUS. N the western side of the Caucasus a lofty peak arises, and, like a spear, shoots towards heaven. Lower down, a high mountain unrolls itself, and, like a monstrous serpent, winds towards the horizon. When, through the snows, the mountaineer has climbed their sides, wearied he sits on the summit, and contem- plates the immensity which surrounds him. What strikes him in this picture, where the colors are so rich, the landscapes .so varied, and the objects deline- ated in such gigantic proportions, is a deep valley, 8 PAUL AXD JULIA. wliich resembles a vast sheet spread by the hand of nature. At his feet gush forth the sources of many small torrents, which, confined in their pebbly beds, murmur, fall, roll, and fall again in foam from rock to rock, until they reach the base ; then glide gently along, and Avater the meadows in their course. Dark forests blacken the sides of the mountain, and beyond are planted large vineyards.* fields, divided into innumerable portions, display their green, pale, and darker hues, and are ornamented by blooming fruit trees. Numerous flocks are grazing silently. The shepherds, grouped around large fires, join in merry sports. The woodman, felling the trees to enlarge his domain, makes the forest resound with the stroke of his axe. In every direction, the laborers are heard repeating some joyous songs of the Caucasus. Scattered here and there are humble cottages and modest habitations, surrounded by orchards. In the centre of the hamlets is neither mosque nor minaret, but only a rude wooden tower, with sides and angles, roughly squared. This valley, which forms so luxu- riant a carpet, where all objects are so pleasing to the eye, is inhabited by a colony of the Ossetes. * The religion of the Ossetes is an imperfect mixture of Mahom- etanism and Christianity. They raise grapes, as well as the Abazes and other tribes of the Caucasus. PAUL AND JULIA. CHAPTER II. ENEMIES COMING. T was on the evening of one of those beautiful daj'f , when Nature, having cast off her winding-sheet of death, cele- brated her new birth, and, to the delight of mortals, robed herself in her tunic of green and flowers. The domes in the valley cast their dark and lengthened shadows far in the distance. The sun, having reached the top of the peak, gilded its crest, and his bloody disk seemed an eye of fire on the brow of this giant of the mountains. Along the western side streamed floods of light, which were reflected near the summit by its snowy or frozen plains and rugged surfaces. Lower down, the beams were caught by the ridges, points, and cornices of the rocks, and multiplied into myriads of golden rays, which, losing their brightness a.s they descended, made darker the valley below. The departing sun soon gilded ihe outline of the eternal snows. The children sported before their fa- thers as they returned from labor. The women, joy- ful at the return of those they loved, prepaiid the 10 PAUL AXD JULIA. evening meal. The vinedresser laid aside his pruning knife, and came merrily singing. The ploughman urged his weary team, as it slowly brought hack the plough. In a short time, all the laborers had reached their homes, and by their cheerful firesides refreshed themselves, after the fatigues of the day, in the bosoms of their families. Aftei the evening meal, the daughters of the valley were seen directing their steps to a solitary grove, where they knelt, joined their hands, lifted their eyes towards heaven, and fervently recited an evening prayer : " Prophet of the Almighty, draw thy lips for a moment from the voluptuous cup ; suspend thy ever- lasting drunkenness, and from thy heaven let fall on our valley a smiling look. " Divine Mahomet, listen to the prayer of the young Ossetino. " The daughter of the mountains, living far from the cities, does not hear from the top of the minarets the signal of the holy hour.* She has never seen thy grand pontiff. No man teaches her thy sublime ora- cles. She has no mosque in which she burns incense to thee. From the garden of the flagrant flowers of the valley she lifts her eyes towards thee : accept at least the incense which she burns to thee, that of her heart. " Divine Mahomet, listen to the prayer of the young Ossetine. * The Mahometans use no bells in their mosques : their Imams, or priests, announce the divine services by str lung a board on the top of the minarets. PAUL AXD JULIA. 11 " Ask for her sheep a rich wool ; for her goat, a silky gown ; for her flock, abundant pasture. Obtain for her field, an exuberant harvest ; for her tribe, happiness here below; for those endeared to her, long days and undisturbed old age. " Divine Mahomet, listen to the prayer of the young Ossetine. "The brooks murmuring flow along the valley ; thus flows the stream of her life. She wishes for wisdom, beauty, and virtue ; for a lover, the most valiant among young warriors, the most faithful among husbands. Through thy intercession the Great Spirit will grant aer wishes. " Divine Mahomet, listen to the prayer of the young Ossetine." And the young supliants hailed the Occident. Suddenly the shepherds, who were attending to their flocks on the opposite side of the valley, ran, exclaim- ing, " We have seen enemies beyond the mountain ! " From every hamlet, from every family, the alarming cry went forth, " To arms ! to arms ! Enemies are coming ! " The shepherds were led to the chief, who asked them, " Where did you see those enemies ? " " Beyond the mountain of the prophet, near that one which is still covered with snow." " Why suppose you they are enemies ? " " Their costume and armor are so strange." " Are they numerous ? " " They are a whole tribe." " Are there horsemen among them ? " 12 FAITL AXD JULIA. " Hundreds of them." " Is their armor that of a neighboring tribe ? " " We do not know." Isram hurried among the people already assembled, " To arms ! " cried he ; " lef s haste to the battle tower." The young men immediately took down their swords, and girded on them their belts, on which two bright pistols were suspended ; mounted their warlike steeds, who, animated by the noise and spur, with fiery eyes, flaming nostrils, and foaming mouths, shook their flow- ing manes, champed their bits, and pawed the ground. Those warriors who had shed their blood in the battle field equipped themselves in the glorious armor taken from their enemies, and hastened to guide and encour- age those valiant youths. The young, fair, and beau- tiful Ossetines arranged their quivers, placed their buckler to the left arm, bent their bows, brandished poisoned arrows, and flew to the battle tower. The old men, whose limbs were stiffened by toil or para- lyzed by noble wounds, advanced more slowly, and with difficulty mounted the steps of this ancient tower, where were deposited the arms which they had han- dled in their youth, and from whence they had so often seen their enemies flying. Isram reached the top of the tower. He raised his voice, and all became silent. " Sons of the valley, seeing in the hands of strangers the torch of fire, and the chain of slavery, you have said, ' Let us protect our homes ! Let us repel slavery ! Let our arms rise simultaneously to strike the enemy.' This expression is noble ; you will be victorious ; for PAUL AND JULIA. 13 union gives strength. Why are my steps tottering, and my hands feeble, that I cannot march at your head ? Alas ! I have not even a son, with the hands of whom I would fight with you. The grass is growing upon his tomb. "Warriors, God sees the justice of your cause. He will bless your arms. But when victorious, shed no more blood. He has said by the mouth of Christ, that we must forgive our enemies." Then the old men and mothers of the warriors, stand- ing upon the tower, raised their feeble hands and sup- plicating eyes towards heaven, and with weak and trembling voices, prayed, " Great Spirit, Sultan of heaven and earth, curse the strangers who trouble us in the decline of life ; who bring to our sons slavery, to our daughters dishonor. Cause their arms to be broken by the first shock, and their arrogance subdued. Protect our soldiers ; give strength to their arms, and courage to their hearts. Preserve them ; if they fall, who will bury us ? Who will plant over our tombs the cypress tree of remem- brance ? And thou, God of Christians, whom so many nations supplicate, whom our chief also worships, thou who hast endowed him with such rare wisdom, such deep science, curse the strangers, for thou art also the God of battles." 14 PAVL AXD JULIA CHAPTER III . THE OSSETE8 PEEPAEE THEMSELVES FOR BATTLE. EXPLANATION BETWEEN THE CHIEFS OF THE TWO ARMIES. V HE warriois had formed their lines of battle, when a young amazon, appear- ing at the head of the bat- talions, attracted all eyes. Her hands, white and soft as the feathers of the swan, sometimes let fall the reins of her steed, then stim- ulated and subdued him. Her robe displayed her beautiful form, and fell in long and graceful folds. A sword was suspended at her girdle, which was fastened with a white buc- kle. A necklace of pearls was twined round her neck, and fell in saltier upon a purple baldrick, to which her quiver was attached. A bow hung on her shoulder ; an aegis shielded her breast. Her long hair was negligently knotted back. Confined in front by a gold clasp was a scarf of silky tissue, the outlines of which displayed the brightness of many colors. The fire of her eyes ; the tears which PAUL AXD JULIA. 15 sometimes moistened her eyelids at the sight of the old man ; her rosy mouth ; the expression of the smile de- lineated on her lips, and the celestial beauty of all her features deified her face. It was Julia, the grand- daughter of the chief of the tribe. Suddenly a heavy rolling sound was borne along the side of the mountain. It was like an avalanche fall- ing from a precipice, bearing with it detached rocks, shattering and overthrowing immense pines in its de- scent, and filling the ravines, and beds of the torrents, with the fragments. In the obscurity were seen, on the brow of the mountain, .cavaliers with shining ar- mor, horses loaded with booty, and numerous flocks driven by slaves. The trampling of feet, the neighing of horses, the bleating of sheep, and the lowing of cat- tle produced noisy and confused clamors. " To arms, noble sons of Ossetes ! " cried Isram. " Strangers bring us fetters. Let us live free, or all die rather than submit to slavery. To arms ! to arms ! Let us hasten to repulse tyrants." The warriors shout their songs of maledictions : " Lift your heads, valiant Ossetes. Strangers crown our mountains. They come, torch in hand, to ravage our fields, to burn our cottages. They wish to drive away our flocks, and take away our treasures. Hear their loud outcries of fury, their savage shouts of bat- tle and death ! See the swords glittering in their hands. " They say in their barbarous drunkenness, " ' We will take children from their mothers.' " Madmen ! do they think to see again their own ? " ' We will violate their wives bathed in tears.' 16 PAUL AXD JULIA. " Theirs will soon weep their widowhood. " ' We will defeat them ; we will take their valley.' "We will be their tyrants, or they shall fall, and cover the rocks crimsoned with their blood. " Let them rapidly descend from the mountain. Our steeds, with pliant limbs and nimble feet, will trample them down, and cover their bodies with foam. Let their trumpets sound for the combat. " Warriors, draw your swords. Women of brave hearts, bend your bows. Let your arrows darken the air, and pierce their bodies. They will fall, biting the dust. We will tear out their hearts, and give them for food to the wild beasts. God of our families, God of our firesides, march and fight with thy children ! " The battalions moved, and were about to rush upon the enemy, when three cavaliers presented themselves. They dismounted, and asked to speak to the chief. A murmur of surprise pervaded the ranks. The lines opened, and they bowed respectfully before Isram, who thus addressed them : " Strangers, who are you ? " " Illustrious chief," replied the youngest, "my broth- ers in arms are two captains of the advancing army, and I am the young Karem, son of their commander." " Under what sky were you born ? What country cradled you ? " "The Caucasus is the country of our birth; the Lesguitan Mountains were our cradles." " What brought you to our valley ? Are you friends or enemies ? " " We are friends, and come to ask alliance and hos- pitality." PAUL AND JULIA. 17 A beam of pleasure overspread the countenance of Isram, and every face was radiant with confidence and joy. With one voice they all exclaimed, " Yes, we offer you hospitality, and accept your alli- ance. The strangers are no longer enemies ; they are our brothers." Immediately a cavalier leaped the space, and an- nounced to the Lesguis the happy news of friendship. Then shouts of joy were echoed in the valley. Soon Lesguis and Ossetes mingled together, and saluted each other with cordiality. The two chiefs advanced into the midst of the bat- talions, placed their hands upon the blade of a lance, raised their eyes to heaven, and confirmed by an oath their contracted alliance. They had exchanged but. a few words, when their voices were drowned by the ac- clamations of the people. The Ossetes shared their humble cottages with the Lesguis, and erected tents under the spreading branches of the trees, and drove their flocks to the richest pastures. The women lighted large fires, and prepared for a fraternal banquet the most delicious meats, and served an abundance of the richest milk. The young girls took osier baskets, which they had woven with their own hands, lined them with green leaves, filled them with the golden fruits of autumn, gracefully arranged clusters of the finest grapes, and bore them to the place where the young men had ar- /anged the banquet, and served the most generous wine. Isram led the commander of the Lesguis into their midst. He was robed in a beautifully-worked tunic, whose drapery fell in graceful festoons. Around his 2* 18 PAUL AND JULIA. waist, he wore a large white scarf, symbol of his au- thority. A long, thick beard covered his chin, and whitened his breast. His forehead was furrowed with wrinkles, as the rough trunk of an old oak, and his head whitened with the winters of age, as the moun- tains with the snow. The mildness and firmness of his appearance, the serenity of his countenance, the majesty of his figure, and the dignity of his step commanded the respect and veneration of all. He seemed the personification of wisdom descended from heaven. Both took their places ; and Isram, at the request of Karem, presided at the festival. His table was not more sumptuously served than the others. He did not take a place of distinction ; for he felt that he was the brother, and not the lord, of the people over whom he presided ; that the first among brothers ought to be the servant of all. He knew that, accepting the elec- tion of his tribe, he had assumed a priesthood, by which he became a victim and a holocaust ; that he had engaged to govern only with love and self-denial. At his right sat Karem, and at his left, the young am- azon, whose appearance was so martial, whose looks so mild. She bestowed upon him the most affectionate attentions, served him with food, filled his cup, and presented it to him. Near her sat young Karem, who was attracted by her, and seemed absorbed in thought. The assembly already pledged each other, and drained their cups to the sweets of friendship. The Lesguis were surprised at such generosity, and were at a loss to express their gratitude. The oldest inhabitants of the valley said they had never seen so fine a feast. PAUL A>*D JULIA. 19 Witnessing the enjoyment of all, Isram could not refrain from expressing to Karem his delight at the happiness, order, and harmony which prevailed among them. He then addressed him thus : " Karem, will you relate the events which procured us the pleasure of this visit ? " " Illustrious chief," he answered, " these are they : The last snows still whitened the earth when the trumpet of departure sounded among the Lesguis. The cowardly tribe of the Abazie attempted to beguile oui old men, our wives, and children ; but swiftly, as the deer flying before the arrow of the huntsman, we pur- sued them. As rapidly as an eagle seizes a lamb ana mounts above the clouds, we cut off" their retreats, destroyed their habitations, took possession of theii wealth, fettered their hands, and are now returning tc our own country." " Why have you taken so long and circuitous a router" " In order to avoid the perfidious attacks of their allies." " You must have lost many of your flocks." " A great number are scattered in the desert, and many have rolled to the bottom of the chasms which bordered the winding and slippery paths. Others, passing on the bridges which broke under them, fell into precipices." " The tribe must have suffered much." " Yes ; the rough roads wore out our shoes, and the bloody traces of our footsteps are left on our paths. The briers and thorns, which obstructed our way through 20 PAUL AND JULIA. the forests, tore our garments, left us only the fur lin- ings, and thereby exposed us to the rigorous cold. Our resting-place was the snow or ice ; we have cruelly suffered." " Have you lost many of your companions ? " " Alas ! the bodies of some were swept away by the cold, deep waters, which we were obliged to swim ; others have been buried under the falling avalanche ; many lie without sepulture in the deep pits ; and the frozen bodies of a great number still serve as food for the wild beasts which followed our steps. When we reached the delightful climate of this valley, and placed our feet on your ground, we said, ' Let us ask hospi- tality of this tribe. If they suffer us to erect our tents near their dwellings and rest our wearied forces, our flocks shall not browse upon the pastures ; our horses shall not trample their grain ; we will not destroy the blossoms which adorn their fruit trees ; we will respect the females, and caress the children upon their moth- ers' knees ; we will give them presents, and divide our spoils with them.' Illustrious chief, you have given us hospitality ; then you may rely upon our lasting gratitude." Isram pressed the hand of Karem, and the whole issembly joined in loud shouts of pleasure and friend- ihip. When the guests were satisfied, overcome by fatigue, 4nd sleep overpowering them, they prostrated them- selves ; both those who worship God by the inter- cession of Christ and those who invoke him by the mediation of the Great Prophet turning themselves to- PAUL AXD JULIA. 21 wards the east. They with one accord addressed the Eternal a prayer of thanksgiving ; for they believed to offer him by the diversity of their prayers an incense of sweet odor, as agreeable to him as it is to us to inhale the perfume of a parterre filled with a variety of fragrant flowers. 22 PAUL AXD JULIA. CHAPTER IV. JULIA ENTREATING KAREM FOB PRISONERS. ( HILE the others were re- joicing, Julia was sad ; her eyes were swimming in tears ; her gaze was fixed on a multitude cast down by suffering, led in cap- tivity, and separated from the crowd as leprous. They were, it is true, sheltered under tents, but not at liberty; they were pres- ent at the banquet, but in quality of slaves ; their hands were loaded with chains, and their heads turned from their oppress- ors. Those men were silent ; their heads bowed down ; their visages meagre ; their countenances inanimate ; their eyes fixed upon the earth. Their vestments hung in rags ; their feet were bruised, and the blood was Tunning from their wounds ; their wearied bodies sought support. Who would have recognized in them the impetuous Abazes, free in their own country as the eagle in the heavens ? At the thought of their homes, they were withering PAUL AXD JULIA. 23 as the branches severed from their trunk. A file cor- rodes iron ; so captivity was corroding the manliness of their souls. Isram comprehended the sadness of Julia, and suf* fered in silence ; but the young Karem remarked it to his father, who said to her, " Daughter of Isram, will you allow me to make a request of you ? " " O chief of the Lesquis, it is sufficient to let ms know your wishes." " Reveal to us the cause of the deep sadness which your gracious smile veils." " Alas ! how can I be gay ? " " Why not, when the joy of the tribes is so great ? " " I could wish to participate in their joy, but " " Finish, Julia, and speak your thoughts." " It is that, near us. I see a whole multitude that are unhappy." " Too generous girl, why are you affected by the fate of those men, who are our enemies? The same evils with which they wished to oppress us have fallen upon themselves." " Ah, Karem, happy are those who have never known slavery ; who have always lived in the land of their nativity, and never been thrown among strangers. The maternal caress, early love, the tenderness of a wife, the sweet effusions of friendship, the smiles of the new born, make life flow so sweetly ! But, alas ! those sweets will be to these unfortunates but bitter recol- lections. They are in chains. Their sufferings mil not have an echo in any heart. Beloved lips will never again imprint a kiss upon their foreheads. They 24 PAUL AND JULIA. will live without hope, and die alone, far from their friends and home. O, how much happier are their brothers in exile, whose bodies are scattered on the frozen mountains ! " " Still, Julia, I cannot set them at liberty." " Noble chief, you can at least ameliorate their con- dition, and that will relieve my heart of the weight which oppresses it." " Speak, and your wishes to me shall be commands." " Let me offer consolation to your prisoners, and relieve them of those heavy chains." " Go, Julia ; it is worthy of you to give happiness. I invest you with my authority." " Your words restore me to happiness." She arose, and flew like an arrow, followed by a crowd of young girls, who were influenced by her ex- ample, and participated in her noble sentiments. She organized succors, and soon after the fetters fell from the arms of the captives, and they were comfortably clothed. The sick, who had been extended on the grass, were placed in warm beds ; their wounds were no longer covered with blood, but washed and dressed. Smiles, to which they had long been strangers, again appeared on the lips of the Abazes. PAUL AND JULIA. CHAPTER V. COXTEKSATION OF JULIA WITH A PE1SOXER. T a short distance, a pris- oner, covered with rags, and his face hid in his hands, was seated immova- ble on a stone. No one sympathized in his sor- rows ; even his fellow pris- oners did not regard him as a companion in exile, for he was cast outside of their ranks. The daugh- ter of Isram observed and hurriedly approached him. His destitution touched her, and his forsaken con- dition interested her. She softly lifted his head, but atarted back in surprise. The power of his look and the nobleness of his traits revealed a distinguished birth. The furrows on his' brow, the pallor of his cheeks, and the cold but energetic expression of his features, told that he was a great victim of adversity. She could but admire his large black eyes, his teeth white as ivory, and his long beard, black as ebony, which fell upon his breast. 26 PAVI. AND JULIA. " Noble captive," said she, " let me relieve you of these chains." At these words, large tears rolled from his eyes ; he addressed to Heaven one of those mute but burning apostrophes, one of those expressions which the Di- vinity loves " Messenger of the Eternal, in whose cause I labor, tell me the name of this angel, who comes to liberate me." " I am not an angel," replied Julia ; " I am the granddaughter of Isram, the chief of the Ossetes." " If you are not an angel of heaven, you are one of those whom God sometimes grants to the earth ; for who but an angel would visit a prisoner whom even the Helots repulse as a Pariah 1 " " God did not create you for slavery. Tell me the country of your birth, the name of your father, and that by which you were called in infancy." " My country is too far distant for you to know it ; the name of my father would also be unknown to you ; but I remember, when playing upon his knees, he called me the young Paul." ** What unlucky fate has thrown you with this bar- barous people, so far from your kindred ? What evil genius has heaped upon you such severity ? " " A good God ; " and, heaving a deep sigh, he said in a low voice, " He gives to the lily its whiteness, to the lamb its nourishment, and to me, who love him I stop and adore ." Then, glancing at Julia, he added, " Yes, a good God." " Ah, if you were a Christian ! " " I am a Christian." PAUL AND JULIA. 27 A mysterious expression suffused his countenance ; he fell into a deep revery; his limbs trembled; his respiration became deep and labored ; and his bosonx heaved under the weight which oppressed it. Julia, unable longer to restrain her emotions, stooped to disengage his chains, washed them with her tears, and in a celestial voice addressed him in these words : " Interesting captive, how unhappy am I to have created in your soul such painful sensations, or, rather, to have revived such vivid regrets ! Ah, if you wish a heart in which to pour the fulness of yours, mine i open to you. Courage, then ! " " Dost thou speak of courage, daughter of Isram ? I have already a superabundance. I am still young ; but already a wanderer disgusted with the voyage of life. Yet I die not. I feel that I love God and man- kind. But at the word Christian, all my past life, with its bitterness, crowds my memory, and my frame trem- bles. You wish me to relate my sorrows ; but I could scarcely commence the recital before the Lesguis would roll again their tents, and drive me before them as a slay*. Then I should leave you ; and, in having dis- engaged my hands for a few hours, sympathized in my grief, you will have bound my soul in a heavy and hard chain that of remembrance." "Young captive, I can liberate you. On these mountains you will find a second home ; in Julia a sister, in Isram a father." " Ah ! compassionate girl, your words have filled my soul with both sadness and joy." ** Why does such an offer sadden you ? " 28 PAUL AND JULIA. " God, why cannot I receive my liberty upon suet sweet conditions? Why does a sacred barrier forbid it ? " " A sacred barrier forbid it ! Reveal this mystery to her who would be your liberator." Paul was about to speak, when Julia observed that the young Karem, who had been surveying the tents of the Lesguis, approached her. " Dear captive," said she, " have confidence." She then left him. PAUL AND JULIA. 29 CHAPTER VI. WAKEFULNESS OF A PBISONEK. moon was silently sink- ing in the west ; her pale rays, gliding through the fo- liage, rested upon the green- sward. By her clear light were seen, in the distance, gigantic pines, whose shad- ows, like dark phantoms, bordered the top of an ab- rupt declivity. Light clouds were floating above their heads ; being driven by the wind, they formed a mov- ing curtain, behind which the mountains seemed to fly. In other parts the heavens were serene, and, under their azure dome, the points of rock were discern- ible, traced in irregular festoons. Here, a block was cut in girandole ; there, a spire pierced the clouds ; and else- where, a colossal column was inclined as a man pray- ing. On another side, projecting angles and a wide gap resembled the mouth of a Chimoera ; and farther down, a vast opening seemed to disclose the lowest depths of the mountain. To the inhabitants of the valley each of these ob- 3* 30 PAUL AND JULIA. jects were monumental or symbolical. One represented a mosque, the other a minaret. One reminded them of Mahomet praying, the other this prophet retiring from the society of men to a solitary grotto, commun- ing with the Most High, and receiving the sublime revelation contained in the Koran. To each they had given a name. Quiet was the scene in the valley.' No lowing of flocks was heard ; men forgot their cares in the arms of sleep ; even the flowers of the fields had shut their petals in repose. Nothing was heard but the moan- ing of the winds through the branches of the trees, the fall of the cascades upon the rocks, the rushing of the torrents, and the murmur of the brooks seeking the prairie. Only two living beings animated the scene the nightingale, which, hid in the branches, from time ti time made the air vibrate with its solemn and sonorous voice, with its pleasing modulations, and its harmoni- ous accents, and the captive, whom Julia had left seated on a stone. The one proclaimed his joy, the other recounted in a low tone his sufferings ; the one warbled his love, the other indulged his grief. " Happy child of nature," murmured the prisoner, " the heavens and the earth are thy domain, the uni- verse thy country. O, sing thy freedom ! At the first dawn of day thou takest thy flight, and floatest softly on the air. Wandering in the immense plains, thou fmdcst pdture. If scorched by the burning rays of the sun, thou descendest to the shade, and there mak- est choice of thy food, although thou neither sowest nor reapest. Thou formest thy resting-place in the PAUL AND JULIA. 31 thickest foliage, lovest and rearest thy little ones, and in melodious accents makest known thy happiness. Those whom Providence has given thee for brothers never mar thy pleasures, are not jealous of thy plu- mage, never dispute with thee the sprigs of grass with which thou fashionest thy nest, never rob thee of the grains which thou gatherest in the fields ; thou and thy fellow-beings live like children of one family, and are happy because you love each other ; ambition has never engendered tyrants among you. " God created me free as thou, and endowed me with a sublime soul, for it was from my first parents that thou receivedst a name. But my brothers have pierced me with wounds, and loaded me with chains. O God, why not send an angel to deliver me as thou didst to Peter in captivity ? " " I am that angel," said a sweet voice. And the prisoner heard a rustling of garments on the grass. " Put on these light shoes throw this mantle over your shoulders keep silence. Let us fly." 32 PAtTL AND JULIA. C-H AFTER VII. THE LESGT7IS LEAVE THE VALLEY. THE OSSETES INTEND TO ATTACK THEM. JULIA HAS DISAF*- PEAKED. EXPLANATION. NE morning the trum- pet of departure sounded among the Lesguis. After exchanging' presents with their hospitable friends, they took with j oy the road leading to their own coun- try. They reached the top of the mountain, and were descending the opposite side, when, suddenly, they heard the trampling of horses and vociferated outcries of fury, and they saw an army crowning the summit of the mountain. It was the Ossetes. " Let their blood redden the torrents ! " And the sound was reechoed on all sides. " Let their carcasses fatten the earth ! Let the vultures tear their flesh ! Let the wolves gnaw their bones. They have abused our hospitality ! " " To arms ! " cried the Lesguis ; " the Ossetes are traitors. They gave us hospitality the more surely to surprise us. They wish to slaughter us, and enrich themselves with our spoils. To arms ! " And they formed their lines for battle. Several captains descended the mountain, theu PAtTI. AND JULIA. 33 eyes flashing with indignation, their mouths foaming with rage, and their hearts thirsting for vengeance. Karem presented himself calm and fearless. " Chief of the Lesguis," said the captains, " you are an ungrateful people." "We an ungrateful people! Explain yourselves." " Yes ; yourself, your son, and your tribe." " Please explain yourselves ! " " Have you been heartily received among us ? " " Yes, as brothers." " Have you not partaken of our cottages, our chases, our banquets, our sports, and all our rejoicings ? " " Yes, and our hearts will keep for you a lasting gratitude." " A lasting gratitude ! And yet " " What ? " " Isram invited you to share his fireside, you and your son ; and you have stained it." " My son and I have stained the fireside of Isram ! If I would forget your kindness, and would yield only to my indignation ! " Saying so, Karem involun- tarily seized his sword. At that sign, the tribes ranged for the battle. "You have injured us." " By what crime ? " " You know it." " I do not." " By dishonoring Isram." " We have dishonored Isram ! Isram, who pos- sesses our veneration, gratitude, and love ! vVe would shed for him all our blood ! But, in fine, ho*ten. By what crime have we dishonored Isram ? " 34 PAUL AKD JULIA. "By the crime of the seducers. Would you wit- ness his affliction ! " " Which woman have we ravished ? " " His daughter.'' On these words Karem turned pale ; his features expressed stupor and sorrow. " Great God ! They have ravished Julia ? " " It is said that your son is culpable." " Would it be true ! " He calls for the young Karem. " My son, you are accused of having ravished Isram's daughter." "I?" His face expressed indignation ; his eyes became fiery. " I ravished the daughter of Isram ? At this idea the blood boils in my veins. I tremble with horror ! " and turning to the captains, " Are you my accusers ? " " All our tribe. You loved her, and she has disap- peared." " I did not see her. Even in leaving the valley, I looked for her, alas ! in vain, to bid her a last and too cruel adieu. When did she disappear ? " ' During the night ; and you alone and your father were in the house of Isram." " I am not guilty of this crime. My father and all our tribe can certify my innocence." " I believe that my son is not the ravisher. But let us inquire together, and if in our camp we find him, let Isram require from us a just satisfaction ; we will put ourselves in his hands." PATJL AND JULIA. 35 The Ossetes, who for many hours waited far an answer, trampled with impatience and fury. " They will not deliver Julia," the soldiers vocifer- ated ; " they have concealed her. Our captains do not return. They have murdered them." Their indignation swelled as the waves of a tem- pestuous sea. The chiefs being unable to restrain their violence, they rushed against the Lesguis. Their glit- tering swords were crossed, when Karem and the cap- tains threw themselves between the combatants, cry- ing, " Desist." At that moment, two men presented themselves, and asked to communicate some important intelligence to the chief. " Who are you ? " demanded he. " Ossetes hunters." " Whence come you ? " " From a distant chase. Being informed that Isram's daughter had been carried off, and that a bloody war was about to ensue between the tribes, we have come to inform you, that last night, in the forest, we saw something like dark shadows passing in the road, and heard, a moment after, a rustling in the leaves." " In what road ? in what forest ? " " In the mountain, on the other side of the valley." " Sheathe your swords," exclaimed Karem and the captains. " We will not take food until we have pierced the heart of this ravisher, and taken Julia back to her father." 56 PAUL AXD JULIA. CHAPTER VIII. SCENE IN A GROTTO OF THE MOUNTAIN. T a retired spot, in tho thick- est part of the wood, is a deep cave : a large gate closes the entrance. Above are immense rocks, covered by lofty, taper- ing pines, seeming to form conical stairs, which penetrate the clouds. The ivy, with its numerous tendrils, covers the surface of the grotto, and twines in festoons around the flowing cytisus. The stocks of the virgin vine extend their knotty twigs ; the eglantine and an infinite variety of small shrubs grow under the branches. The white daisy and the modest violet serve as a resting-place for the convolvulus, whoso endless creeping stems form a network covered with wild flowers. At a short distance is a green square, surrounded by a wooden trellis raised waist high, en- closing two tombs. Within the enclosure are grassy tnolls, artistically arranged, bordered by ever-bloom- ing flowers ; among which the heart's ease, emblem of death, and other mourning flowers of purple hue. At the foot of these tombs grow two cypresses of different ages, and, near them, a weeping willow, whose long, PAUL AND JULIA. 37 green branches float in disorder. Outside of this en- closure is seen tne fire tree with its crimson plumes waving gracefully in the air. In the wide extent are oaks ancient as the world, shading with their many branches the small pliant shrubs and creeping briers ; the blindweed, whose numerous fibres pierce the tufts of moss which grow upon their trunks, derive froir them support, partake of their existence, and die upoi their bosoms. At a short distance was a young man, with wan and pallid countenance, reclining upon a bench formed of boards, and supported by two posts driven in the ground. Suddenly he heard a slight noise, and a glim- mering light in the grotto attracted his attention. It was a young girl, who had kindled a sepulchral lamp. She went out hurriedly, and gathered from the rocks and trunks of the trees a pile of dry lichen and moss, spread it upon the ground, and covered it with dry leaves, which had accumulated there during the autumn. Then she assisted the young man, and conducted him to this place of repose ; washed his wounds with limpid water ; and from a light basket, which she had woven of the finest straw, she took an odoriferous balsam, spread it upon his wounds, and bound them up with soft bandages. To protect him from the cold, she threw over him a large mantle, which covered him com- pletely ; then seated herself upon a projecting rock. Her ingenuous air, the frankness and innocence of her looks, the calm and melancholy pleasure which over- spread her countenance, all in her that breathed of modesty, showed that she tasted that happiness whim the just experience in the performance of good actions 4 23 PAUL A.ND JULIA. that felicity which fills the bosoms of those blessed souls created for virtue, and to bestow happiness. Her eyes were fixed upon this unfortunate, extended upon this rude couch, without motion, or power to express his gratitude. She said to him, with a sweet, celestial smile, " Alas ! unhappy captive, I am at a loss for words of consolation to soothe your sufferings." It was Julia speaking to Paul. He did not reply ; for they had in their flight taken circuitous paths, walked almost all night, and he was scarcely able to reach this retreat. He was completely exhausted, and insensible to every thing but his misery. When the first dawn of morning appeared, and Julia had supplied the wants of Paul, she arose to leave, and return unperceived to the paternal roof. Starting out of the cave she heard a great noise. The gate opened, and a crowd of men entered hastily. By the light of a flambeau, she perceived the young Karem. Terrified, she shrieked. ** What ! Julia ! Here is the ravisher ! And he is one of the prisoners ! Let him die ! " He raised his sword. Julia precipitated herself before him, crying, " Mercy ! he is innocent." She caught the arm of Karem, and fell senseless upon the earth. PAUL AN JULIA. 39 CHAPTER IX. SCENE BETWEEN KAREM AND ISBAM. HORSEMAN was dismounting be- fore the cottage of Isram. " Isram ! Isram ! " " Karem ! and my daughter ! " " She will soon be restored to your love." " Where was she ? " " In a grotto, amidst thick woods." " Near a graveyard ? " "Yes; I have seen several tombs." " What ! during the night ? Did she pray ? " " No." "Was she alone?" " No." " Speak, Karem." "With her " " O, finish ! " " Forgive, Isram ; my son is not the ravisher ; my tribe is not guilty ; but " " Explain yourself, Karem." "Alas!" " O, speak, Karem ! " " She was with one of our prisoners." And a dark 40 PAUL AND JULIA. anxiety, a deep affliction, were painted on the face of Isram. " Great God ! " he exclaimed ; " would she have stained my white hair ? " " Perhaps not," responded Karem ; " he was lying on a couch when I saw the poniard of my son directed to his breast." " And my daughter ! " PAUL AXD JtTLIA. 41 CHAPTER X. EVENTS IX THE GKOTTO. HE tribes were plunged in the deepest consterna- tion. The people talked to each other of her with sorrow ; they did not dare inquire about Julia. They whispered to each other, " What ! the angel of virtue ! the virgin of the valley ! the conso- lation and glory of her grandfather ! " Isram and Karem coming, the crowd drew back with a mournful silence. They entered into the grotto, and saw the young Karem, who bore on his arms Julia fainting. The face of the old man turned pale, and his lips became tremulous ; big tears fell from his eyes. " What, Julia ! " " Ah ! my grandfather." " Speak." " I have been a victim " " Of this ravisher," sighed the yoang Karem ; and with a fiery glance he lifted his poniard over his head. " Mercy he is innocent " 4* f2 PAUL AND JULIA. " Speak, Julia." " I alone am guilty." " Great God ! " " He is as pure as the sky, and my virginity is as tvhite as the feather of the swan." " I thank God." " Karem, plunge your sword into my bosom ; I have violated the laws of hospitality." " What ! my daughter ! " " I saw a prisoner who spoke the language of the Greeks ; he was not an Abaze. I believed he was un- justly fettered, and was about to die ; then I resolved to give him liberty and life. Look at him, dying on this poor couch. Kill me, Karem, but spare his days. Listen to the granddaughter of Isram, who, on her knees, supplicates you, washes your feet with her tears, und raises towards you her feeble hands." And turning to Isram, she added, " For a last favor, O unfortunate grandfather ! Do Mot curse Julia. Forgive her on account of her com- miseration for an unhappy captive, and bless her tying." " O Heaven ! " *' Arise, Julia. For your sake I grant life to this prisoner, and restore him to liberty. Why have you not asked his deliverance ? You had not to expect from me a refusal. Isram, forgive your daughter as I for- give her. She is not guilty; she has been only too magnanimous." " Come, dear Julia, and kiss your grandfather." And the two tribes rejoiced. The warriors and the young women bore Julia in triumph to the valley. PATTL AND JT7LIA. 43 Tho people repeated with enthusiasm her heroical deed, and shouted, that she was yet the virgin of the valley, the consolation and glory of her grandfather. Not one uttered a single word to charge her with temerity. Having reached the cottages, the two tribes renewed their oath of a lasting fraternity ; and, when the Les- guis took again the route of the mountains, the two people shouted, " We are forever allied and brothers." A youth wept. It was the son of Karem, who, till he reached the top of the mountain, turned often, glan- cing at the valley. He was hopeless, and still bore in the depth of his heart a burning spear. PAUL AXD JULIA. CHAPTER XI. VISIT TO THE GROTTO OF THE TOMBS. E left Paul extended on his couch, motionless and with- out strength. The sword had gleamed above his head ; he saw it not. A touching scene had taken place in the grotto ; he heard it not. He was taken on a litter to the house of Isram, where he was momentarily ex- pected to breathe his last sigh ; but the assiduous cares of Julia had recalled him to life, and he soon re- gained his health. The agreeable and courteous manners of Paul, his modesty, and above all his noble sentiments, excited in Isram a warm interest for his misfortunes. Indeed, all the tribe sympathized with him, and did not wish him to leave the valley On one occasion, Julia requested him to accompany her to the Grotto of the Tombs, (which, since, the Os- setes called the Grotto of Refuge.) " I wish to pray neat the ashes of my father," said she. They departed ; and as they went, Julia recounted to him the sad inci PAUL AND JULIA. 45 dents attending his deliverance. After the recital, which deeply moved him, he said to her, " Why did you not leave me in chains ? Dying a captive would have been for me far preferable to a bitter existence. Then you would have been an angel sent by God to guide me from earth to heaven, and I would not have caused you so much trouble." " Have confidence, Paul. Providence will guard 5 ou. I am compensated for my sufferings by having given you life and liberty." " How could you sacrifice your repose, and confide your honor to a stranger, an abandoned of God, the outcast of a barbarous people ? " " Because I read in your face what had been wm- tcn by the Eternal nobleness of soul, elevation of thoughts, and magnanimity of sentiments. O, say not you are an abandoned of God ! Did not Christ sweat drops of blood in the Garden of Olives ? Did he not exhaust to the dregs the cup of gall and wormwood ? Yet a voice from heaven proclaimed him the beloved of nis Father." At these words the face of Paul brightened, and he seemed happy. " Your mouth, daughter of Isram, exhales consola- tion as the flower its perfume ; but your lips are too flattering when they give praise. I know the disci- ple is not above his master. Although my body is pressed by suffering as the iron by the vice of the me- chanic my soul beaten by adversity as the cloth by the fuller's hammer I have not to complain. Did not the heavens hear the Savior in uttering these sad words ? ' Father, if it be possible, take away this cup 46 rAUL AND JULIA. from me. My soul is exceeding sorrowful, unto death..' Then angels came and ministered to him. Have I not an angel before me, who raised me up when I was without hope, rescued me from servitude, and gives me now that nectar of which I had not hoped to drink but at the table of the elect ? O, how much I desire to know how you formed the plan of my deliver- ance ! What inspired you with such generous de- votion?" " I will relate it to you, grateful Paul. " The sight of your misfortunes touched my heart, and immediately I conceived the design of liberating you. On beholding you, I said, ' This young captive has not always lived in these mountains ; a woman of the lit- tle Abazie has not given him life ; but a lady of Euro- pean birth, in rich attire and flowing robe, has im- printed the first kiss upon his lips, and received his first sigh. All in him shows that he is the child of the city.' When you addressed me in the language of the Greeks, which Isram was taught by his mother in in- fancy, but has never forgotten, and by his assiduous teaching made familiar to me, I thought that you, per- haps, were a native of the same clime ; that by some great misfortune you had been thrown among the Abazes, and by a still greater one you had been made prisoner. I felt within me the inspiration as it were of an in- visible being, and yielded to the attraction which was seconded by my own heart." A blush suffused the face of Julia. She then added, " Behold, Paul, why I feared nothing, and confronted all obstacles to save you." PAWL AXD JULIA. 47 Julia paused, and seemed preoccupied by some secret and mysterious reflections, some sad recollections. " But," said Paul, " why, alone and at night, did you expose yourself to so hazardous an enterprise ? " " My slumbers were unquiet ; a strange dream dis- turbed them. In an obscure place, I saw a spectre ad- vancing towards me, bis feet dragging chains. He drew near to me, and said, in a low, sepulchral tone, ' How heavy are my irons ! ' I tried to scream, but my lips were mute. I made an effort to fly, but my limbs refused their office; the shadow fled away, a bright light shone about me, a supernatural being appeared, his head encircled by a shining halo, his countenance celestial, and his body transparent. From his gilded lips fell these words : ' Fear nothing ; my daughter, do not shrink from your father.' " I was frightened, and my eyes were dazzled. " ' I inhabit the beatific regions of the blest, where reigns an eternal spring. I dwell in the palace of hap- piness, where hearts never suffer, but always love. From the height of this enchanted place, unknown to mortals, I saw in this valley a child of misery, a mar- tyr to virtue, whose name is registered with the elect. Immediately, borne on light wings, I traversed the heavens, and came to tell you, daughter of Isram, if you are worthy of your father, deliver this elected of God from captivity. The most favorable moment is the hour of silence.' " The luminous cloud became fainter and fainter, until it gradually disappeared. I sprang towards my father ; but an invisible hand was placed upon my heart, and the blood froze in my veins. I strove to speak, but I could 48 PATH, AND JULIA. not. I made an effort to seize him, but my hands could not touch him. I tried to weep, but not a tear fell from my eyes. Than, in an effort of despair, I di- lated my breast ; I drew a deep sigh, and I awoke starting. I was panting and exhausted by fatigue, aa a wrestler just from the arena ; drops of cold perspira- tion stood upon my face, and all my limbs were trem- bling. Seized with a sudden inspiration, I exclaimed, ' Yes, my father, I know how to deliver this captive. I will do it. He awaits me.' I silently left my couch and the paternal roof, and swiftly approached the tents of the Lesguis, which were disposed in long and ir- regular lines. Clouds of curling smoke, arising from the still burning cinders, veiled my steps by their ob- scurity ; and some bundles of burning straw, emitting a flame, facilitated my examination. By this dim light, I glided to the tents of the prisoners, who were quietly extended upon the grass : the guards and sol- diers, wrapped in warm furs, slept profoundly." " Too generous Julia," said Paul, interrupting her, * to what dangers you were exposed ! " She continued : " My restless eyes sought you, but in vain. ' If he s with the prisoners,' thought I, ' how can his flight be xmcealed ? Perhaps he reposes near the stone where I left him.' I went to an elevated landmark that sepa- rated two estates. From there I distinguished, at a short distance, something which appeared to be the trunk of a tree overthrown by the tempest. ' That may be he,' said I ; and I drew near ; I then saw you." " Julia, you appeared to me not like a daughter of earth, but a virgin who had passed her life in the PAUL AND JULIA. 49 relief of mankind ; had obtained a suspension of hap- piness to descend from paradise in order to appear to men for a few short hours, and deliver them from trials. God alone can recompense your generosity. He alone can appreciate my gratitude." Julia and Paul arrived at the grotto, which re- called such painful, yet pleasing recollections. They knelt in prayer. As Julia bent over the grave of her father, a pallor overspread her countenance ; the smile faded from her lips, and tears flowed from her eyes ; her silence was interrupted by sobs. The sight of her grief afflicted Paul, and he addressed her in these words : "Why weep, ray benefactress ? Does not prayer re- lieve the heart ? " " It is at the recollection of what my mother, all in tears, once said to me =- ' Dear child, follow me. I wish to visit that place so endeared to me. I want to weep and pray.' " I accompanied her to the tomb ; we knelt ; she, with a trembling hand, gave me a branch of cypress, and bade me plant it, saying, " ' My daughter, you have seen the trees of the valley bloom for the seventh time ; your intellect, it is true, is not fully developed, but your mind is capable of re- taining a deep recollection. During your life, this shall be to you a memorable event. The cypress will increase in size ; you will also grow ; but, as you ad- vance in age, never forget that where you planted this cypress the ashes of your father lie. My days are not numerous ; however, were I not necessary to you, my sorrows would long since have cut the thread of my 5 50 PAUL AXD JULIA. existence. When my life shall close, do not forget to bury me near your father.' " She wept bitterly. I sympathized with her, and the roots of the cypress were watered by our tears." " You were very young when you lost him. Have you any recollection of your father ? " " I remember when evening came, and he suspended the labors of the day, or when, fatigued by a long chase, he returned and took his place at the fireside, I threw myself into his arms, mounted his knees, relieved his mind, and gave him joy by my caresses and infantile prattle. He often said to my mother, " ' How dear to me is my Julia ! When grown up, I will conduct her into the fields, bend her bow, and teach her to fly the arrow. Together on the mountains we will pursue the swift deer. Seated at midday on the pliant ferns, sheltered by the foliage, we will take our frugal repast. Above our heads the forest birds will chant their merry songs, the rippling brook will roll at our feet, from whence we will fill our hunter's gourd to quench our thirst.' " But, alas ! he did not lead me to the field ; his hand did not string my bow, nor teach me to fly the arrow. Never together did we pursue the wild deer, nor take our repast under the shade near the running brook. Ah, with what sad regrets the thought of my father's death fills me ! " " Julia, your filial piety is worthy of admiration. I comprehend the extent of your sorrows, by that which your words have made me feel. I can appreciate the deep affliction your loss caused you by the sad picture you have drawn, and my voice unites with yours in PAUL AND JULIA. 51 saying the death of your father merits unceasing re- grets. But will you always remain inconsolable ? Has not Providence left you one whose wisdom guides your steps ? " " Yes ; but can Isram replace my mother ? Look at 1 that cypress, which has scarcely taken root, that is planted over the tomb of her whose remains seem still palpitating. And you wish me to be consoled ! Ah, I think I still see that open grave where her coffin was placed, from which I was taken heart-broken. I heard, in the distance, the funeral knell and a dismal sound ; it was caused by the grave-digger throwing the clods of earth upon her coffin." Here sobs choked her utterance, and her tears flowed more abundantly. " Julia, time heals the wounds of the heart. Isram will give you in marriage " Paul pronounced these words in a faltering voice, and did not dare to finish. A deep sigh, as of despair, betrayed his feeling. Julia, after a moment of silence, raised her eyes to Paul, then, casting them down, said, " I bear in my heart a too dear image." " Julia, how painful is memory ! " Then, silently and sadly they returned to the valley, giving mysterious interchanges on the way. FAtTI, AND JULIA. CHAPTER XII. PAUL COMMENCES AN ACCOUNT OF HIS LIFE. NE of those beautiful days of spring, when the sun fertilizes the earth with his mild and genial heat, Isram, Julia, and Paul had taken their meal under the shade of some fine trees. The more the old man and his daughter studied Paul, the more they wished to know of him. They con- ducted him to an elevated situation, where the moun- tains were presented to the view like floating drapery. They seated themselves on the grass, and desired him to relate the history of his life and misfortunes. At first, Paul was moved ; but emotion gave place to assurance, and he spoke thus : " I was born in Greece, of Catholic parents. Basilos was the name of my father. Without being opulent, he was still possessed of a considerable fortune. He had filled many of the most important offices ; he had been raised to dignities and honors, and was universally re- spected and esteemed for his many virtues. A devoted citizen, he had sacrificed a part of his wealth, and fought PAUL AXD JULIA. 53 for his country, when generous allied countries were in arms to save it. A fond husband, he made my mother happy ; a tender father, he devoted himself to the in- terests of his children. His talents and virtues made him the glory of Irs country, the delight and support of his family. " When weaned from my mother's first cares, he commenced the formation of my mind and heart. Af- terwards, to superintend better my education and in- struction, he sent me to an ecclesiastical college. When I had finished my first studies, and he thought me capable of guiding myself in the world, he sent me to Naples to complete my education, to extend my learn- ing, and determine by observation what career I should choose in order to be the most useful to my country and society. " I received his instruction^, listened to the advice of my mother, made my adieus, embraced my family, and embarked on board a merchant ship. The weather being favorable, we reached in a few days the coast of Naples, which I was so often to explore in my solitary rambles. Never, no, never can I forget what I there experienced. " Capri was before us with its steep shores, and rich plains covered with vines, olives, myrtle, and almond trees. Ischia and Prosida presented their gray moun- tains, whose crests bristled with crags, whose aride sides were planted with many rare shrubs. Before us ap- peared the harbor, in the form of an immense basin, filled with shipping, which brought to Naples, from all parts of the world, the riches of the universe. The neighboring country presented a beautiful prospect. 5* 54 PAUL AND JULIA. The quays and promenades, delineated in circular lines, limited the horizon. At our right, Vesuvius vomited forth its lurid flame, sometimes veiled by a column of " curling black smoke, which, blown by the wind, scat- tered its cinders like rain upon our deck. The lava gushed from the crater with a thundering sound, which shook the mountain. The port was seen at a distance, its many masts shooting upwards. Above the city, the church steeples, palace towers, and domes of the mon- uments seemed to disappear in the azure of the sky. Never had nature appeared to me so magnificent and imposing ; never had the "industry of man seemed so active, nor the works of his hands so admirable. " My emotions succeeded each other like lightning. Admiration and awe, joy and sadness, pleasure and pain, confidence and doubt, contended with my heart. A thousand thoughts assailed me ; and, above all, I could not divest myself of a mysterious presentiment which weighed upon my spirit, that Naples was to be to me the scene of some dark and terrible event ; that my life would be tumultuous, and I should be driven by its influence as the cedars of the mountain by the tempest. Whilst absorbed by these reveries, we were borne rapidly before the wind, and in a few moments we entered the port. " I was then in that immense city whose beautiful sky has given it the title of Paradise of Europe. I saw a multitude of men of different manners and customs who had come from all parts of the world to pay their tribute of admiration to this the Queen of Cities. I wandered in its streets and squares, bordered by pal- aces, modest residences, and hovels, showing the de- PAUL AXD JULIA.. 65 plorable proximity of wealth and poverty. I was borne on by the tide of population as it hastily flowed along. The poor elbowed the rich, who, by their silk attire, seemed to mock their tattered dress. The great displayed before the indigent their splendid equipages, their liveries, and attendants. Carried out by fleet steeds, they broke through the crowd, and passed like arrows before the unfortunate, who envied their lot, and walked sorrowful. I heard, from under the gilded ceiling, instruments of music and songs of joy. It was the sound of the children of fortune at splondid festiv- ities, seated around tables served with delicious meats and M-ines. At the same time, not daring to seat him- self at the portal, stood a mendicant, begging, in a trem- bling voice, a morsel of bread to appease his hunger, and a little water to allay his thirst. So much mag- nificence and misery, so much profusion and privation, so much pleasure and sorrow at first saddened me ; but being born in affluence, my imagination young and lively, and my heart desirous of enjoyment, this sen- timent was transitory. I shed a few tears at the fate of so many destitute of fortune; but unable to assist, I turned from them. 56 PAUL A2n> JULIA. CHAPTER XIII. PAUL MEETS WITH A MONK. "WILL not attempt, venerable chief, to give you the history of several years I passed in Naples. It will be sufficient to relate the events which gave another course to my ideas, and totally changed my existence. " One evening I re- ceived a letter; the seal was black. Trem- bling I opened it, and read these words : " ' MY DEAK PAUL : I am commissioned to give you this painful intelligence. Our father has just died. In his last moments he called for you, that you might receive his benediction ; that you might be present at his last sigh, and closs his dying eyes. He expired with your name upon his lips. O, come, at least, you, the eldest son of the family, to console your brothers and sisters ; to draw our mother from her despair. Your affectionate brother, JOIIK BASILOS/ PAUL AXD JULIA. 57 " The paper dropped from my hands ; I felt like faint- ing. That night was for me endless and cruel ; and I was for many days the prey of the deepest sadness and melancholy. " One morning I left the city, and went to the coun- try around, seeking solitude. I was for many hours wandering in a forest, when, yielding to fatigue, I sat on the trunk of a tree, which had fallen under the axe of the woodman. My head rested on my hands ; I wept. Alas ! it was there that the drama of the last years of my youth closed so unexpectedly ; there events occurred which brought me to your country. Sud- denly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I raised my eyes, and saw a monk, with austere appearance ; but his face still betrayed marks of sensibility and kindness. *' ' What ! ' he said, ' you weep, young Neapolitan. Though in the spring of your life, you know suffering.' " ' Yes, reverend father,' I answered. " ' However, your age is the first step in life ; life appears bloomy ; its happiness seems to be endless. O, I should feel happy if I was allowed to relieve you ! " " ' To relieve me ? My sorrow is too deep.' " ' Grant me leave to say, that, inexperienced in the anxieties of life, you exaggerate their bitterness. You are like a soldier who turns pale and trembles when for the first time he meets with the enemy. You are that man who never defied danger, and sees it increas- ing like a nocturnal ghost.' " ' My loss is irreparable ! " " ' Cheer up ! Time heals the wounds of the soul as well as it heals those of the body ; waves fill the void which waves dig ; with centuries valleys disappear ; 58 PAUL AND JTTLIA. and years will teach you that life is a tide of suffering 1 and pleasure ; that the impressions are blotted out in the soul like the traces of a ship on Avater like the traces of clouds in the sky. However, are we not all children of the same family ? Can we not aid each other in partaking of our tribulations ? ' " As I did not answer, but sighed heavily, he went back, saying, ' Pardon my seeming intrusion, for 1 Bee that you want solitude.' PAUL AXD JVLIA. 59 CHAPTER XIV. SECOND INTERVIEW OF PAUL WITH THE MONK. N the following day, I met the monk several times in my solitary rambles ; but, as I seemed to avoid his company, he did not speak to me. On a certain day, he came and said to me, " ' Young Neapolitan, moved with your affliction, every day I prayed for you, and came to this wood hoping to console you.' " ' Reverend father,' I answered, ' I thank you.' " ' Are you less melancholy ? ' " ' I still am inconsolable. I have not even a friend to offer words of consolation.' * " ' Alas ! I am not astonished. In society you will not find one.' " ' I had many friends, who partook of my pleasures ; but as soon as they saw me in sorrow, they fled and forsook me.' " ' They did so because they were not truly your friends. You perhaps have already noticed that the title of friend is upon the lips of all ; yet how few intellects appreciate it ! and how few hearts feel the 60 PAUL AXD JULIA. obligations which it imposes upon them ! Friendship, which yet the Holy Ghost calls a precious stone, a treas- ure, is a prostitution in the mouths of men. Believe me, the monks and the priests are the only true frienda here below.' " ' I despair to find one.' " ' Yet the human heart wants a friend. Christ had chosen St. John, whom he called his beloved disciple. Young Neapolitan, I know that you cannot consider me as a friend, for I am unknown to you ; still I am a priest, and a monk : perhaps these titles are deserving of your confidence. Trust in me ; honor me with your friendship, and you will never regret it.' " Venerable chief, my spirits were so low, and my sorrows so deep, that I yielded to the want of opening my heart, and I said to him, that one of my brothers had given me the intelligence of the death of my father ; that my family was deeply afflicted, and my mother in the deepest sorrow. " ' Your affliction,' he said, ' is very natural. By the death of your father, you have lost the support of your youth, the counsellor of your inexperience, the star which, in the order of Providence, was to guide you in life ; but you ought to yield to consolation, for death is a tax which every man has to pay to nature.' " ' Of course ; but I am so young, and still am an orphan ! Why so soon has my father left this life ? ' " ' Others beside you have to complain. You are no more as a young eagle ; you can fly with your own wings. God has called back to himself your father, because the sun of his virtues had ripened him for heaven.' PAUL AND JULIA. 61 " The monk, seeing that I gave up to my sorrow, said to me, " ' I partake of your suffering, for I have driven in the thorn which I fain would have extracted from your heart. By entreating you to relate to me your grief, I have caused you to drink the bitter water of a too fresh recollection. I have enlarged a wound whose lips are not yet closed up.' " ' O,' I answered, ' who can relieve me, the loss of my father is to me so great ? ' " ' God ; he is the Father of his creatures, and he cherishes his children. If he sends sorrow, he wipes tears ; if with one hand he wounds, with the other he heals. Man being the masterpiece of his hands, he cannot sink him into affliction, and let him struggle alone in the bottom of this gulf. O, no ; for he has counted every single hair of our head ; he loves us more than a mother can love her child ; he says so in the holy book. Therefore he will heal your evils, and will drop in your soul celestial consolations.' " ' But I shall never again see my father : is this thought, which I shall bear always till I die, compat- ible with consolation ? ' " ' Let me ask you if you are a Christian.' " ' Yes, I am a Christian, and a Roman Catholic.' " ' You ought to thank God, who granted you this great favor. Is not your belief a source of consolation for you ? Every man, it is true, has to die, for death is a punishment of our first father's sin ; but did not Christ, by coming again to life, give himself as the pledge of our future resurrection ? Did not God in- spire the patriarch Job with this song of hope: "I 6 62 PAUL AND JULIA. know that my Redeemer is living, and that in the last day I will live " ? Had not Martha the same confi- dence when, weeping over the death of Lazarus, she consoled herself, saying, " I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day " ? Your father, young friend, will take on new life, and you will see him again.' " ' The realization of a hope, though so doubtful and so far distant, could perhaps comfort me ; but the thought of my family afflicted, and of my mother's despondency, still assails my mind. Moreover, who can replace my father ? ' " ' Here below, no sorrow is endless. Your family and your mother will, with time, yield to consolation. As for you, trust in futurity ; confide in God ; he will give you a friend who to you will be a treasure. God is the Father of the orphan. He is the God who saved Moses from the waves, and freed Israel from Pharaoh's tyranny. He is the God who sent to Tobias an angel to guide him to Raguel's, in Mesopotamia. Believe me, he will take care of you ; and from heaven he will send to you a friend who will replace your father.' " I thanked the monk, and we parted. PAUL AXD JULIA. 63 CHAPTER XV. THE MONK QUESTIONS PAUL. t ? SRAM, from my infancy, I had been taught that ths priests are the lieutenants of God on earth ; there- fore the utterance of the monk had relieved me. Besides, I wanted so much to open my heart to some one, that a mere exposi- tion of my grief would have afforded me comfort." Here Paul turned to Is- ram and Julia, saying, " I will abridge my re- lation, lest by its being too wearisome, I abuse your bonte." " Be not anxious, Paul," they replied. " We feel desirous to know, with all their circumstances, your interviews and conversations with the monk." Paul thanked them, and continued : " One day, I went far from Naples, and walked thoughtfully along the sea shore. I was surprised, when raising my eyes, to see the monk, who was com- ing towards me. We saluted each other, and the fol- lowing conversation took place. 64 PA tit AXD JULIA. " He put to me many questions, which seemed of the utmost indiscretion ; but he proceeded with a dex- terity so great, that politeness, and my deference for his sacerdotal and religious character, obliged me to answer. " ' You, perhaps, are an Italian r ' he asked me. " ' No, reverend father,' I answered. " ' But you are a European, are you not ? ' " ' Yes, reverend father.' " ' If it be not an impoliteness on my part, may 1 inquire in what place you were born ? ' " ' In Greece.' " ' Perhaps in Athens ? ' " ' Yes, reverend father." " ' From your education and manners, I judge that you belong to a rich family.' " ' Reverend father, you are not mistaken.' " ' I am glad to congratulate you thereon ; for wealth is a great blessing from Heaven. Wealth is an evident mark of the peculiar favor of God ; it is the touchstone cf wisdom and virtue : in proof thereof, God granted it to Solomon.' " As I appeared very much surprised at this reflec- tion, he asked me why. " ' Because,' I answered, 'Jesus Christ has accursed wealth ; because he has said, " Verily I say unto you, that a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of >. eaven. And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God." ' " ' Well, young friend, but do not forget that he commissioned the priests to explain his doctrine.' PAUL AND JULIA. 65 " This answer did not satisfy my mind ; but know- ing he was the lieutenant of God, I did not reply. " ' Your father,' he continued, ' held undoubtedly a high station in society.' " * He at least was esteemed for his virtues.' " ' Had he been promoted to dignities ? ' " ' Yes, reverend father.' " ' You, perhaps, are in Naples merely as a travel- ler ?' " ' No, reverend father.' " ' You are very young to live far from the paternal roof. I suppose that it is only for a while ; that you do not intend to make Naples your permanent home ? ' " ' My father sent me to Naples to complete, in that city, my collegial studies. I would have, after a while, gone to Rome, where I would have studied painting and music ; thence I would have returned home.' " ' I approve very much, indeed, of the views of your father. I congratulate you about it ; it is in Naples and Home, those so eminently Catholic countries, that you can inform yourself about arts, and chiefly become initi- ated in the .true political, social, and religious sciences. You will be afterwards allowed to be very influential for the triumph of our holy religion among your coun- trymen, and to fill the honorable offices to which you will be promoted.' " ' I do not know what God reserves for me, for the death of my father has entirely changed my future pros- pects. Now I owe myself to my mother ; and, as I am the eldest among my brothers and sisters, I owe myself to their education and instruction.' 6* 66 PAUL AND JULIA. " ' Did you attend the lectures in a college of Ath ens?' " ' No, reverend father ; I was educated in a college conducted by priests.' " ' O, I feel happy with what you say ! If you would appreciate how valuable is the favor which God granted to you, your thanks to him Avould be endless. The Holy Ghost alluded to the laymen's universities, Avhen he said, by the mouth of the holy King David, " Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the un- godly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful." The universities can give only a worldly science, leading astray the mind and cor- rupting the heart. The priests alone are commissioned by God to educate and teach youth ; and, as they are his lieutenants on earth, to be educated and taught by them is to hold education and instruction from God himself.' " ' As to me, reverend father, I have gathered from the teaching of the priests, my professors, only bad and bitter fruits.' " ' My young friend, I am astonished at your say- ing-; explain to me why, and in what manner.' '" ' Because they have not initiated mo in the secrets of science ; have given me only a superficial knowl- edge, without even putting in my hands the key of the sanctuary of learning, without enabling me to improve myself in studying privately.' " ' You are mistaken. Why would they have not initiated you in the secrets of science ? ' " ' Pardon me, reverend father, if I say so ; it is be- cause they are ignorant themselves.' PAUL AXD JULIA. 67 " ' Still their scliools and colleges are the best.' " ' They say so, but I, unfortunately, know the con- trary by my own experience.' " ' Young friend, though they could not teach the profane sciences, they should be praised for it, because it is written in the sacred book of Thomas a Kempis, " Science makes men proud." ' " ' But the sciences which you term ''profane" are useful, even indispensable in society.' " ' The only indispensable science is that of the holy Roman religion.' " ' Reverend father, suppose it be so ; why have they stopped the development of my intellect ? Why have they forbidden me to use my reason ? Why have they tyrannized over my heart by imposing upon it too heavy religious practices, and by restraining all its law- ful propensities and feelings ? ' " ' Poor young man, how blind you are ! The priests, your teachers, have stopped the development of your intellect, because science would have led you astray to perdition ; they have forbidden you to use your reason, because our holy and only true church does not allow the faithful to think, judge, and believe for them- selves, but binds them to mould their thoughts, judg- ments, and belief on those of the clergy. As to the direction of the propensities of your heart, they were right in tying it with strong bands. Remember that a young plant wants a solid tutor to grow straight.' " ' Why, then, have they misled me by their exagger- ations ? ' " ' From them it was wisdom, for the spear attains the blank only when the point of sight is raised up. 68 PAUL AXD JULIA. The sailor can stem a river only in oaring along the bank.' " ' Although I was young, they had no right to dis- guise the truth, and to impose upon me too onerous practices.' " * Believe me, you are mistaken. I tell you so in the name of God. I repeat it ; I congratulate you for having had priests for teachers. Had they taught you only the practices of religion, you should owe to them a lasting gratitude.' " On these words I did not answer, from fear of being disrespectful by my persistency. Then the monk proceeded : " ' Young friend, I delight in the thought that you were a faithful practitioner of the religious principles which you have been taught.' " ' I have neglected several practices and precepts of the church.' " ' What ! you, perhaps, have doubts on our holy faith ? ' " ' Yes, reverend father. And the more I inquire and reflect about it, the more I suspect that the doc- trines preached by the priests are not contained in the gospel ; even are in many points opposed to it ; that the most of the Romish ceremonies, prescriptions, obser- vances, and articles of the creed, are mere human institutions.' " ' Great God ! what a blasphemy ! Young friend, do you forget that you are bound, when it is a question of our holy religion, to believe and obey without inquiry and reflection ? Do you forget that the clergy, being the lieutenants of God on earth, hold from him a PAUL AND JULIA. 69 boundless authority, even the power of forgiving sins ? ' " ' This is what I have been taught from my infancy ; but my reason, my conscience, and my heart rebel.' " ' Unfortunate young man, why speak of reason, conscience, and heart ? Has not Jesus Christ estab- lished the holy Roman Catholic church ? Has he not empowered it to impose upon all Christians a creed and laws ? ' " ' Of course, a Christian is bound to admit and practise what is recorded in the gospel ; but the most of the Romish ceremonies, observances, prescriptions, and articles of the creed, are opposed to reason, to conscience, and to the feelings of the heart.' " ' Error ! profanation ! impiety ! Reason, con- science, and heart are mere folly in matter of religion. To think, judge, believe, feel, and act for ourselves would be to think, judge, believe, feel, and act like un- conscious men.' " ' But God himself has endowed me with my reason, my conscience, and my heart. I must use them ; I can- not cast them away.' " ' You, it is true, hold from God these faculties ; but he intends they shall be ruled by his priests, ac- cording to what he says in his gospel : " He that hear- eth you heareth me ; he that despiseth you despiseth me." Young friend, you ought to understand now why your teachers forbade you the use of your reason, and restrained the propensities of your heart; you ought to understand fully they were right, since, in spite of their efforts, they have been unable to prevent you from inquiring, reasoning, and doubting about our holy faith.' 70 PAUL AND JULIA. " Isram, I remained without a reply and thoughtful, for I was afraid of offending God in contradicting his minister, and not believing his word. The monk pur- sued : " ' Excuse, young friend, the boldness of my lan- guage. Ah, if I was allowed to speak for your dear- est interests to speak to you all my thoughts ! ' " ' Reverend father,' I answered, ' speak freely ; I ap- preciate your zeal and charity.' " ' You believe that the word of a priest is the word of God ; do you not ? ' " ' I must ; since I would otherwise offend God. But my reason rebels.' " ' Listen, then, to what I am about to say. If you do not practise the ceremonies, observances, and pre- scriptions, and do not believe all the articles of the creed, which we priests impose upon you, God will ac- curse you, and his arm will chastise you. He, perhaps, will strike you with an early and sudden death ; and then what will be your fate ? He will perhaps permit that you spend long days on earth, but how unhappy you will be ! " ' Cain wandered, accursed, from country to coun- try, from exile to banishment, bearing every where the divine malediction engraved on his forehead with a bronze chisel. You, accursed as he has been, for dis- obedience to the priests of God is the greatest crime, you will drag your anathema every where ; it will stick to you under all skies. God will arm against you the visible and invisible beings, your fellow-creatures, and chiefly yourself, by the vain thoughts and fool- ish desires to which you will yield by the regret PAUL AND JULIA. 71 and remorse which will besiege you. Has not the Holy Ghost said which every day is realized that peace is not for a man who does not love God? " ' Moreover, if I would lift one corner of the veil, which hinders our eyes from seeing the eternal justice, what mournful spectacle would strike your eyes ! You would see the bottomless abyss which God has made in the days of his wrath. You would see buried and consumed in the flames the reprobate and their crimes. You would see despair, and the endless despair ; for, for many centuries, the pendulum of the clock of hell moves, and the hand is still on the hour marked Eternity. " ' Do not say that after a while you will love God. He dislikes les rebuts. He has said that sinners will look for him, but in vain ; that they will die in their sins. Nor may you have time to repent ; for he has said, " Watch, therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh." " ' And, young friend, would I dare speak that to you ? Your father, though young, has been struck with death. Reflect on that event, and you will apprehend why. Has not God caused the prophet Elias to die, because his son was a profaner of the temple ? By your doubts on our holy faith, by your desertion of the prac- tices of our divine church, you have become a pre- varicator, and God has punished you in depriving you of your father. What ! it is you who have given death to the author of your days ! It is you who have plunged your family into an abyss of affliction, and vour mother in despair. I stop ; I cannot speak all. My words are strong, and still I do not exaggerate ; I have spoken in the name of God.' 72 PAUL AND JULIA. " While the minister of God was speaking, I was motionless, my eyes fixed upon the ground. Fearing to have afflicted me, he offered me his hand, and ten- derly embraced me. We both, with slow steps, re- turned to the city ; but his discourse having made me pensive and melancholy, we exchanged but few words on the way. Arriving before a church, we stopped, and he said to me, " ' I leave you to go and pray for you and your fa- ther. My words were austere, it is true, but all char- itable. I wish they may be of service to you. If yoii desire a heart devoted to you, a true friend, and you wish to see me, you will find me in this .temple ; call for Father Francis. But I cannot leave you without desiring you to enter with me into the house of God, and offer prayers for yourself and your father.' '* The monk entered the church. I followed him, and knelt in a retired part of the chapel. A priest at the same moment mounted the steps of the holy tribune, around which a large crowd pressed. I also drew near to listen. The minister of God expounded these words of Jesus Christ : ' For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? ' He drew in lines of fire a picture of the vengeance of Heaven, which pursues here and hereafter the infractors of the sacerdotal prescriptions. My reason rebelled at his sophistic arguments ; but afraid to offend God, I repulsed this temptation, and made efforts to con- vince myself that God was speaking by his mouth. . "At length I was moved, and my mind struck circumstances which caused the words spoken by the monk to sink deeper into my soul. He finished, and 1 PAUL AND JULIA. 73 felt depressed by his discourse, in the same manner as iron is flattened by the forger's hammer. I wept much and prayed long. I thought weeping and praying would alleviate my sufferings ; but it was not so. When the church was deserted, and nothing was left but the lamp burning in the sanctuary, I ceased pray- ing, and left the temple. 7 74 PAUL AXD JULIA. CHAPTER XVI. INTERNAL STEUGGLES OF PAUL. ENERABLE chief, my last interview with the priest, and the discourse to which I had listened, overwhelmed me with indescribable terror, and caused me to examine my- self. My disordered life was pictured to me in all its nakedness, and in- spired me with horror. I immediately formed the resolution to return to my blind belief and religious practices ; but, all at once, the darkness of night en- veloped my soul ; phantoms besieged my spirit ; and dismal thoughts haunted me. Each morning brought to me regrets more violent, remorse more bitter, and a perspective more frightful. It seemed to me that God had taken my father to punish me. Believing myself accursed, I had always before me my miserable existence, and hell with its horrid torments. I buried myself in solitude, and there, alone, sustained fierce conflicts. One voice said to me, ' Although your mind has rebelled, and you have been carried away by vour PAUL AND JULIA. 75 pride, believe the words of the monk; listen to his counsels, and the curse of God will not dwell upon you.' Another replied, ' Your sins are too great to hope for pardon ; your faith is too feeble to believe the teach- ing of the priests. Your reason, conscience, and heart rebel at the practice of the prescriptions of the church ; you can never observe them. Enjoy, then, the present, for the future is not yours.' Another, more powerful, cried, ' Seek, wait, hope ; perhaps you may find a way by which you may escape from this thraldom, this bondage of the mind. Perhaps some ray of light may stream in upon your soul, and lead you from the deep darkness and sorrow in which your heart is steeped.' " Such were the thoughts which contended with my soul. I deplored my doubts, but I could not sacrifica my reason. I wished to return, but recoiled from the difficulties to be surmounted. One morning, after a night of wakefulness and struggle, I was impelled by an invisible power towards a chapel of the Virgin, situated near the sea. There I knelt and prayed with fervor; my tears flowed abundantly. Presently ^ thought I saw my father writhing in his grave, and re- proaching me with his death. I then imagined I heard my friends and my mother entreating me not to add to their affliction dishonor. I would then have re- turned to my duty, but the world, its pleasures and allurements, presented themselves to my imagination, and my resolution vanished. I struggled again tri- umphed then fell again ; no assistance came from above to help me. In my despair I left the chapel, determined to follow my reason, and all the inclina- tions of my heart. 76 PAUL AND JULIA. " I had taken a solitary path, when, suddenly, I saw a picture. The bottom was black ; in the centre were sombre shadows of men, agitated and struggling con- vulsively. It disappeared in a whirlwind ; these words remained : The world ; its passions. They also dis- appeared. Then I saw flames, as of a great fire, de- vouring victims ; they vanished, and this word I read : Hell. This picture also disappeared. " A shudder passed over my body, and I fell to the earth. ' My God,' cried I, ' am I not sufficiently un- happy ? Have I nothing in perspective but despair and madness ? ' I advanced a few steps, when another picture appeared. The bottom was white. A virgin was standing with hands extended, and from them issued something which I could not describe. Her looks were sweet, her face angelic, and in a soft voice she said to me, ' Return to the practice of religion. You shall be an apostle.' Then all vanished. My feet failed ; I staggered and fell upon my face. After a few moments, I arose, endowed with supernatural strength ; an indescribable peace reigned in my soul. " I hastened to the monk, fell at his feet, confessed my sins, and received absolution. * Now,' said he, * God is reconciled to you ; but do not think yourself secure. He alone shall be saved that perseveres to the end. The world is the dominion of the devil ; he there reigns sovereign, by the concupiscence of the eyes, the intemperance of the flesh, and the pride of life. His agents are innumerable ; his apostles draw almost all men near to his altars, and prostrate themselves before his idol. The small number of men who remain faith- ful to the practices of religion live as if they lived not : PAUL AXD JULIA. 77 they embrace solitude, and still can with difficulty escape the torrent of perverse doctrine and bad ex- ample. " ' How then can you persevere ? Believe me, you can only do so by being among society in body, but not in heart ; by praying constantly, and remembering that according to the words of Jesus Christ, "many are called, but few are chosen." A frightful truth ! but the recollection of it will be profitable to you. You will persevere chiefly by sitting frequently at the holy table, by eating of that bread which maketh strong, and by drinking of that wine which bringeth forth fruits. In vain will the world and the devil as- sail you ; you will always conquer ; and Jesus Christ is my authority, for he said, " He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in him." It was after partaking of this banquet that the first Christians became like lions ; braved the seductions of the world ; defied tyrants ; and, by confessing their faith, placed their heads under the axe of the execu- tioner, and, as they rolled upon the sand crimsoned with their blood, gathered a crown of martyrdom. " ' Remember what I am about to say to you. The wicked Jezebel having sworn the death of Elias, the servant of the Lord fled to the desert ; being tired, he sat under the shade of a juniper tree, and he prayed God that he might die. He cast himself down and slept ; and behold, an angel of the Lord touched him, and said to him, " Arise and eat." He looked, and be- hold, there was at his head an earth cake and a vessel of water ; and he ate, and drank, and fell asleep again. And the angel of the Lord came again the second time, 78 FATTL AN JULIA. and touched him, saying, " Arise, eat ; for thou hast yet a great way to go." And he arose, and ate, and drank, and walked, in the strength of that food, forty days and forty nights, to the mount of God, Horeb. " ' To you, whom sufferings oppress, and who walk in the desert of the world, I say, in the name of God, Eat and drink, for you have yet a great way to go. It is not the earth cake and a vessel of water which I offer you, but the body and blood, soul and divinity, of Jesus Christ. Frequent this sacred banquet, and you will arrive, like Elias, not to the mount of Horeb, but to the eternal mount of Paradise. I am now going to celebrate the holy sacrifice ; come, then, and unite with me in thanks to God for your conversion. At my voice God will descend from heaven, and I will give him to you for food ; then you will have in you the pledge of perseverance and eternal life.' PAUL AND JULIA. CHAPTER XVII. UTTERANCE OF FATHER FRANCIS TO PAUL. CCORDINQ to the invitation of Fa- ther Francis, I fol- lowed him, attended mass, and took the sacrament. Since then I heard no more the voice of my reason and conscience ; all my interior struggles were over ; nothing remained in my mem- ory but the sad recol- lection of my errors ; nor in my heart but regret for my faults, though soft- ened by the assurance of pardon. " Once thanking the monk for what he had done for me, I spoke of the elevated position I would take in society ; the wealth I would possess ; the services I would render my country ; the advantageous alliance to which I could aspire ; and the happiness I would enjoy in the world while working out my salvation. I saw a smile of doubt delineated on his lips. I was surprised, and inquired the cause. " ' Yes,' he said, ' surely you can participate in the enjoyments of the world, and withal be saved ; but I 80 PAUL AND JULIA, do not think you will experience all the happiness yon anticipate. What will you find there ? Riches, pleas- ures, honors, love, hymen, and family. *' ' Can riches produce happiness ? Riches is but the long and heavy cloak, which heats, encumhers, and causes the traveller to fall, when walking under a burn- ing sky. It is as the fruits of a shrub, which grows on the ruins of Sodom ; a duvet, soft and of daz- zling whiteness, grows upon the bark, but when gath- ered and pressed in the hand, a black dust falls from them. Riches do not nourish the heart, for the ali- ment must be of the same nature as the organ to which it assimilates ; material food cannot nourish the soul. Solomon, whom God endowed with great wisdom, un- derstood it well. " ' He made great works, built houses, planted vine- yards, made gardens and orchards, that he set out with trees of all kinds. He had men servants and maid servants, herds of oxen and flocks of sheep ; he heaped together gold and silver, and the wealth of kings and provinces. He had singing men and singing women ; the wine at his table was served in cups of gold and precious stones, and he surpassed in riches all that were before him on the throne of Jerusalem ; still he cried, " Vanity of vanities, all is vanity and vexation of spirit." " ' Riches not only do not satisfy the desires of the human heart, but they expose men to eternal dam- nation. Jesus Christ, seeing the poor weeping and the rich rejoicing, pronounced this terrible anathema : *' Verily, I say unto you, that a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven." And again, " It PATTI, AXD JULIA. is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God." However, I must not exaggerate the meaning of the words of Jesus Christ, for, when the apostles, aston- ished at the doctrine so frightful which he uttered, exclaimed, " Who then can be saved ? " he replied, " With men this is impossible ; but with God all things are possible." " ' What else does the world offer of happiness ? Pleasure? But pleasure is a stream of fire, which draws into its waves all who play on its shores ; it is that fountain whose waters are delicious, but which conceals in its bosom the devouring crocodile. In the evening it gives joys ; in the morning, tears. Pleas- ure affords but transient enjoyments. Has not Jesus Christ said to his disciples, " Verily, verily, I say unto you, You shall weep and lament, but the world shall rejoice ; and you shall be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy." "'What does the world still offer of happiness? Honors ? Unite your fortune to that of the great ; in- asmuch as you serve his ambition, he will let fall to you a few crumbs from his table, thinking that a suffi- cient recompense ; and when he mounts another stop in the ladder, you will have from him but forgetfulness and ingratitude ; you will be as Joseph loft in irons by the great officer of Pharaoh. Attach your arms and heart to the car of a king ; surround him with fidelity and love ; raise your voice to gild his name with fas- cinations and glory : at first, from his great height, he will smile upon you ; but when covered with sweat, blood, and dust, you watch at the door of his palace, 82 PAUL AXD JULIA. he will renounce, perhaps assassinate you, for the holy King David himself thrust Uriah upon the sword of the Philistines to serve his brutal passions, to commit adultery. " ' Sacrifice to your country your repose, your liber- ty, your dearest interests ; let your blood flow for her ; one day she will bear you in triumph, the next she will doom you to death. It is only necessary to ex- amine the history of nations to prove that it is but one step from the Capitol to the Tarpeian rock. Should we be acquainted with the history of the great, we find that royalty does not afford happiness elevated places are the abode of trouble. The largest oaks on the summit of the mountain are shattered by lightning. A golden crown covers dark sorrows, gloomy cares, and frequently imbues the head with blood, as a crown of thorns. We have seen in our own times thrones shaken by the volcano of revolutions, taking fire, being consumed, and their ashes blown by the winds into the air. We have also seen powerful kings exchanging their sceptre for a travelling staff, their robes of royal- ty for citizens' dress, and wandering, in this attire, from nation to nation, from exile to banishment, and meet- ing at some humble inn, wherein they relate to each other the history of their misfortunes. We have seen kings, and families of kings, buried in dungeons ; de- prived of the air which common men breathe ; unable to alleviate their griefs by mingling their tears ; un- covering their heads to the scaffold, there infamously assassinated ; and, after this life, going where ? God alone knows ! But this we do know ; hell is paved with the heads of the great. How many ministers on their PAUL AXD JULIA. 83 death beds regretted the time spent in serving masters ! How many kings, at their last moments, have wished that, in place of the sceptre, they had carried the shep- herd's crook ! " ' What happiness does the world offer? Freedom? hut freedom is a dream. God has constituted kings and emperors rulers of the people, and^the clergy ruler of all. Love ? but love is a delirium of the soul, which does not always continue, and when the illu- sion vanishes it leaves a grievous void in the soul. What more does it offer ? Hymen ? family ? But hymen bows men to the earth, and diminishes their enjoyments; and Jesus Christ has said, "He that is able to receive it, let him receive it." Did he wish virgins to marry ? Loved he not the blessed John, the evangelist, who never married ? " ' Does the heart of woman offer any enjoyment ? Our faculties are quickly blunted. Does not the pos- session of what we desire cause the illusion of hap- piness to vanish ? Family ? but the ties of blood compress the soul, contract and circumscribe the heart. Jesus Christ has also said, " Whosoever does the will of my Father in heaven, he is my mother, my brother, and my sister." Also, did he not reply to Mary at the marriage of Cana, "Woman, what is that to me and to thee ? " " ' The apostles and the great philosophers, the illus- trious conquerors and legislators, separated themselves from their families. The love of family not only par- alyzes the soul, but is a source of unhappiness. Pater- nity is a protracted martyrdom. A father shares the lives of his children, and sympathizes in their suffer- 84 PATTL AND JULIA. ings. I do not speak of the anguish of separation, because you already weep a father, and I would not renew your grief. " ' The elevated position you may occupy in society ; the great riches you may possess ; the services you may render your country ; and the advantageous alliance you may contract, will not afford you the anticipated happiness. And still I have not told you of all the duties you shall fill in the world ; of all you shall suffer, in working out your salvation with fear and trembling.' " ' Reverend father, how rigid is your language ! ' " ' Notwithstanding, I have only spoken truth. Con- sult those on whom Fortune has bestowed her gifts, and who have grown old in the world. I do not speak only of those who are Avithout religious principles, who walk in darkness of mind and disordered hearts, with- out hope of happiness beyond the tomb, but also of those who use the goods of the world with wisdom. They will tell you that happiness disappears with youth ; that the realities of life, far from rendering them happy, engender disgust, and that the pleasure derived from it is ephemeral. You ought, then, to see that the world will make you unhappy here below, and I must add, in the future life ; for Christ has accursed it.' " ' Pray, reverend father, tell me what I have to do to work out in the world my eternal salvation.' " ' You shall yield passively to the leading of us priests, believe and practise all we bid you to believe and practise. Besides, you shall partake with us the cares of our apostleship.' PAUL AXD JULIA 85 " ' In what manner ? ' " ' In facilitating our ministry ; in making it more fruitful for the soul's salvation.' " * But I do not see how I can.' " ' In many ways. So, God having granted you wealth, you shall help us ; holding a high social sta- tion, you shall use your influence that the great of the world protect and favor us ; being vested with author- ity, and thereby influential on families, you shall advo- cate among them our power, right, and interests.' " ' Is this required for my eternal salvation? ' " ' Certainly. Furthermore, you shall inquire from families in order that you may inform us of what is enacting among them, and reveal to us all that you know.' " ' And for what purpose ? ' " ' To enable us to rule more surely their temporal and eternal interests.' " ' Is this obligatory upon me ? ' " ' Undoubtedly ; for we read in the Bible that we must watch over the conduct of our neighbors.' " ' Reverend father, I must believe that what you say is the will of God, though it seems opposed to the gospel, and to my reason. Still do you allow me to speak to you all my thought, both to settle my con- science and to enable you, whom God has chosen for my guide, to know me better.' " ' Yes, my son ; and le\, me cursorily say that I. feel happy to call you by this name ; for you are my spir- itual son, and you consider me as your father. Speak.' " ' It appears to me that denunciation is a crime ; for it supposes curiosity, artfulness, duplicity, false- 8 86 PAUL AND JITLIA. hood, hypocrisy, and cowardice. Far from being use- ful, it is injurious to all ; far from generating frater- nity, it generates only discord ; it is the source of antipathy, contentions, quarrels, hatred, and vengeance. Moreover, though my conscience would authorize me to play the part of a spy and of a denunciator, it is against my disposition and habits to lend myself to such an office.' " ' You are mistaken, my son. What I propose to you, far from being sinful, is laudable, and conform- able to the will of God ; for God looks at the heart. Intention and chiefly obedience justify before his eyes. Besides, Christ has recommended us to unite to the simplicity of the dove the prudence of the serpent. What I propose to you is not a cowardice, for your purpose would be the benefit of your neighbor. And would you feel reluctancy in accomplishing this char- itable duty ? With use, however, and time, your re- luctancy would disappear.' " ' Will I, at least, be permitted to go in society, and enjoy its charms ? ' " ' Your eternal salvation would be very much en- dangered.' " ' Yet, for my family's sake, and for my own inter- ests, I must frequent society, yield to its exigencies, and take part in enjoyments when they are not forbid- den by the gospel.' " ' Say, rather, when they are not forbidden by the clergy, who are commissioned by God to explain the gospel. Of course you will be permitted some inter- course with society ; but be aware that you must be circumspect ; ODoerve what will be enacted, and inform us about it.' PAUL AND JULIA. 87 " * Will I, at least, be allowed to marry ? ' " ' Yes ; but it will be a great danger for your sal- vation. I do not think that God calls you to marriage, for your heart would be divided, and God is sover- eignly jealous. He would possess your whole heart. Moreover, you could but imperfectly, being married, participate in our ministry ; and thereby you would not receive the reward promised by God to the co-workers of his priests. If, in despite of these considerations, you marry, I tremble for your eternal salvation. In celibacy, chastity is easily preserved ; but in marriage it is nearly impossible. Would you know the teach- ing of theologians on the obligations of a married man, you would be frightened so that you would reject for- ever the thought of marrying.' " ' Ah, reverend father, I foresee all that, practising your counsels, I must endure.' " ' Do not exaggerate ; you will have succor and sol- ace. To soften the solitude which you shall have es- poused in society, you can confess often, and be admitted to frequent communion. You can every day count beads that admirable and sublime prayer which is dear to the heart of Mary, so that she descended from heaven to teach it to one of her holy servants. You likewise can, every day, during half of an hour, read mystical books ; and above all, in the morning, meditate dur- ing half of an hour on some important truths of re- ligion.' " ' But in what manner shall I meditate ? ' " ' In this : on the evening before going to rest, you shall prepare, in reading or reflecting, the matter of your meditation of the next day. During the night, 88 PAUL AXD JULIA. when you are awake you shall again reflect on it, and in the morning you shall keep your mind recueilH and attentive, lest profane ideas absorb you, and be in- jurious to your meditation. This is what the ascetic authors style the indirect preparation. Then you shall kneel, recite a vocal prayer, confess your sins to God, shall ask the help of the Holy Ghost, and recite the for- mulas of the acts of adoration and remer clement. This is the direct preparation. Next you shall enter upon the object of your meditation, which you shall have pre- viously divided into three points. The greater num- ber of acts of humility, obedience, offering, and demand, and chiefly of faith, hope, and charity, you will recite, the more your meditation will be profitable to your soul and pleasing to God. " ' You shall take one or two resolutions, and for spiritual bouquet one thought, which will keep all the day in your mind the recollection of your meditation. " ' After your meditation, you must every morning assist at the holy sacrifice of the mass. By noon you must examine your conscience, and by twilight visit in the church the holy sacrament.' " ' But, reverend father, you entangle me in an in- extricable labyrinth. My mind will be lost among all these prayers, meditations, and religious practices. Your language is to me strange ; it is far from giving me any courage.' " ' Try to practise what I say to you, and soon these practices, which seem so strange and hard, will afford to you indescribable pleasures.' " ' Shall I be bound in conscience to all this ? ' " ' I did not dare say to you all about it, fearing to FAUX A5s'D JULIA. 89 dishearten you ; but you cannot but with the greatest difficulty work out your salvation without being faith- ful to these practices.' " ' Are there many Catholics who bend themselves to these restraining observances ? ' " ' Alas ! they are very few, unfortunately ; but it is not astonishing. Christ has said, " Many (are) called, but few chosen." ' " ' You say that society, wealth, dignities, pleas- ures, freedom, hymen, and family will endanger my eternal salvation, and that, in order to avoid the dan- ger I shall be bound to such lonesome and hard life. O, it would be better for me to die. If, at least, I was permitted to live in the bosom of my family, and to marry, without putting my eternal salvation at stake, it would be for me some comfort.' " ' You may not.' " ' Have not many saints enjoyed themselves in the bosom of their families, and withal worked out their eternal salvation ? ' " ' Some of them did, but they met thorns without gathering roses.' " ' Where then can I find happiness, for my soul thirsts for it ? ' " ' Believe me, happiness is not on earth ; but if you were grafted on Jesus Christ, life would often afford to you delicious fruits. If you were initiated in his mys- terious doctrine, of which a few souls have the knowl- edge, it would produce in your heart a source of fe- licity. That doctrine would be the luminous cloud which would shield you from the sun of passion, and would guide you during the night of affliction. It would 8* 90 PAUL AND JTJLIA. be the manna which would nourish you in the world ; the fountain that would quench your thirst ; the water thereof was unknown to the Samaritan ; it would be the polar star which would lead you to the port of a bliss- ful eternity.' " ' O my father, teach me, then, this mysterious doc- trine, which can give me happiness, and facilitate my salvation.' " ' Pray ; beg God to enlighten your mind ; for this knowledge is a gift of his munificence. The rich young man spoken of in the gospel observed the law ; still he withdrew full of sadness when Jesus Christ said to him, " Sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven." Come to my monastery in eight days, in the morning. I will teach you this secret of happiness, which will afford you indescribable joy in both this and the future life.' " PAUL AND JULIA. 91 CHAPTER XVIII. PROFESSION OF A NOVICE. SECRET OF HAPPINESS. T the solicitation of Is- ram, Paul, in whom this recital aroused so many recollections, and pro- duced such various im- pressions, took a few mo- ments' repose. He then continued : " The discourse of the monk, in undeceiving me, had greatly affected me. However, I had one con- solation ; it was his prom- ise of initiating me in the true secret of a present and future felicity. " On the day which he had appointed, I went to the monastery, and the monk said to me, " ' The ceremony of the profession of a novice is about to take place in the church ; perhaps it may in- terest, perhaps affect you. I invite you to attend ; then we can entertain ourselves at our leisure.' " I acquiesced ; he led me into the church, and af- terwards took his place in the choir with the other 92 PAUL AND JULIA. monks. After praying a few moments, I looked around, and was dazzled by the magnificence. The interior of the building was immense ; it formed a vaulted nave, with many arches. Ranges of richly-carved columns supported the beautifully-fluted arches. Pictures in fresco, glittering with gold, ornamented the vaults. The mouldings of these pictures were strong and fine. The window frames were luxuriantly carved ; on the glass were painted, in rich colors, scenes from the Old and New Testament, through which the sun seemed to shed a veiled and mysterious light. Along the sides of the nave were raised altars of white marble, sur- mounted by images of the saints to whom they were dedicated. All around the church small columns were intwined with garlands, and their richly-carved capi- tals supported finely-moulded wainscots. Under the side arches were galleries with graceful balustrades, extending the whole circumference of the church. At the commencement of the gallery above the portal, the organ case was supported by Caryatides, around which were graceful branches of evergreens and bouquets of flowers, displaying the whiteness of the marble between the leaves. Costly pictures, symmetrically arranged, ornamented the walls. A gilded railing separated the nave from the choir, where were a number of richly- carved seats. " At the bottom of the sanctuary, forming a rotunda, were costly marbles, ornamented by beautiful carv- ing of garlands of roses work of the great artists ; and statues, wrought by the chisel of the most distin- guished sculptors. High columns were spherically ar- ranged around the great altars, on which the richest *t PAUL AND JULIA. 93 Phasing and carving were seen. The chandeliers were of gold, and the lustres were daz/ling with a thou- sand prismatic colors. The most of the sacerdotal garments were of golden cloth and rich embroidery. Tne sacred vessels were of massive gold, and inter- spersed with diamonds and precious stones. What- ever was used in the highest sacerdotal functions was of gold, silver, or costly materials. As to those things that in worship are destined for less noble purposes, they were equally expensive ; even the carpets were rich *nd silky. When my eyes became familiar with this pomp and magnificence, the ceremony fixed my attention. " Ai the right side of the vault, a throne was erected, upon which the superior of the convent had taken his place, on a seat covered with velvet and adorned with splentiid drapery. A deacon, subdeacon, and other suboitfinate officers occupied seats upon the degrees of the throne. In the centre of the choir, the floor was covered with a black cloth ; a coffin, covered with a paH, was placed upon it ; four white wax candles were burning around it ; and at the foot grinned a death's head, placed on two bones, in the form of a cross. On an elevated estrade, ladies displayed with pride their rich and costly attire ; and, in a semicircle was a confused crowd of spectators, whom curiosity had attracted. Below, at the side of the throne, was seated a youth, arrayed in the most pompous style. It was the novice, who was about to make his pro- fession. "After the reading of the Gospel, the priest mounted the pulpit, and addressed the assembly. He compared 94 PAUL AND JULIA. the world to the gloomy images which shadowed the sanctuary, and the magnificence and pomp of the cere- mony to the sweets and charms of a religious life. He concluded by saying the world was the abode of spirit- ual blindness, affliction of heart, and death of the soul ; and the cloister that of true light and felicity. " After this discourse, the novice approached, and knelt at the feet of the superior, who propounded the following questions to him : " * "What brings you thus adorned into the house of God?' " ' The salvation of my soul.' " ' Do you renounce the pomp and vanity of the world?' " ' I do renounce them.' " ' Do you vow to live a life of chastity ? ' " ' I do.' " ' Do you renounce your own will, and vow to obey the will of your superiors ? ' " ' I do renounce my own will, and vow to obey my superiors.' " ' Go, then,' said he to him, ' cast off and trample under foot the livery of the world ; then come and take your place in this coffin under the funeral pall. This death will separate you from the world; but this tomb will be to you the cradle of a new life. You, like the chrysalis, will leave your terrestrial covering, and come out anew with rich wings, which will elevate you to the region of virtue and happiness.' " The superior ceased speaking, and the organ pealed forth its sublime chant. " The novice was conducted to the sacristy, where his PAUL AND JtTLIA. 95 unholy dress was taken off, and he was clothed in a religious habit. He then returned to the choir, and was laid in the coffin : he was covered with a pall, and then the office for the dead was recited. After this ceremony, he drew near the superior, and received his benediction, embraced each of the monks, and took his place among them. The offering of the holy sacrifice was then continued ; and when it was finished, he prostrated himself before the statue of the Virgin, which was arrayed in silk and velvet, and glittered with more diamonds and precious stones than the queens of the earth. There he consecrated himself, and implored her special protection. Then the Te Deum was chanted in thanksgiving that one soul was snatched from the world, and consecrated to God. " The crowd quietly dispersed, but I was greatly moved. The monk called me to him, and led me to the interior of the convent. We traversed a vast court and immense rooms, where marble statues and decora- tions were distributed in great profusion. We passed through long corridors and immense galleries surround- ing the monastery, ornamented with all the magic of art. We entered the vestibule, where arose a spiral staircase, with steps and balustrade of marble. From there we passed into the gardens, where the monks were already assembled, to enjoy themselves until the hour of the entertainment ; for this was a fete day another was added to their family. " Father Francis left me to my contemplations, without making any remark. We then wandered by the borders of beautiful fountains, with magnificent reservoirs, and traversed several gardens of varied and 96 TATTL AND JULIA. elegant designs. We penetrated a wooded labyrinth, and pursued its many windings till we entered a shaded spot called by Father Francis Golgotha. It was a tertre, shaped as an English garden : on the top thereof a cross, loaded with gilt hearts, was erected. At a little distance below it were groups of yeuses, with a polished bark, and a beautiful foliage. The same hand had planted them ; the same spring had seen their buds opening and blooming ; they had been agitated by the same winds. Their branches that blended, and were close to each other, fell again in the middle, and formed a cradle. Vines of smilax, that twined around their trunks flexible rings, arose in the form of spirals to the ends of their branches, and descended again like garlands, on which they enlaced with their folds. *' ' Let us stop,' the monk said, ' and enter into this grove.' " We entered in, and sat on a root arched over the ground. " ' Reverend father,' I asked, ' am I allowed to en- treat you to initiate me in the mysterious doctrine of the gospel, that can, you have said to me, make me happy here below and hereafter ? ' " ' Listen then, young friend, to what I am about to speak to you, and ponder it : " ' " Then answered Peter, and said unto him, [Jesus Christ,] Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee : what shall we have therefore ? And Jesus said unto them, Verily I say unto you, that ye which have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of PATTL ASTD JULIA, 97 Israel. And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hundred fold, and shall inherit everlasting life." *' ' This is the hidden meaning of these words : " ' We have to leave society, because it is hostile both to the gospel and those that practise it. " ' We have to espouse the religious life, because it is a public profession of the Christian perfection, and an evident mark of predestination. " ' We have to despise honors, to be modest and humble, because those that are the first in this world shall be the last in the house of God. Jesus Christ fled to the wilderness when the people intended to crown him king, " ' We have to leave our inheritance, because " a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of God." Voluntary poverty is an easy way, leading to heaven. " ' We have to leave the land of our nativity, be- cause we have not on earth a permanent dwelling. The heavens are our sole and true country. " ' We have to deny our family according to the flesh, and not to live in its bosom, because we belong to God, and not to our parents; because, if he calls as by an extraordinary grace, we ought to " let the lead bury their dead ; " because the parents of man are nis enemies. We ministers of Jesus Christ do not preach such a sublime doctrine before the common peo- ple, for the Savior has said to his apostles, " Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample theti under thfcir feet, and turn again and rend you." ' 9 98 PAUL AND JULIA. u ' Reverend father, explain to me this doctrine ; it seems to me a monstrous one.' " ' What a blasphemy ! but I excuse your ignorance. If I initiate you in this holy and mysterious doctrine, it is only because God has revealed to me, whilst I Avas praying for you, that he calls you to religion.' " ' I still, reverend father, feel against the monachal life the strongest reluctance.' " ' It is a temptation from the devil. God permits it to try and purify your soul, so that you be worthy of your divine calling. But I have not time at present to talk about it. Listen to me. You say that my interpretation of the words of Christ is monstrous. As proof that it is their true meaning, we monks, who practise it, receive the hundred fold promised by Christ.' " ' What is this hundred fold ? ' " ' This is it : " ' We monks have renounced honors ; but we are allowed by Christ to say to the people, " Build up for us churches ; let them be splendid, for we are the lieu- tenants of God on earth. You shall divide them into two parts ; the one for us, the other for you. Ours shall be called sanctuary, yours nave. You shall raise up a gilded railing separating them ; you shall call it the sacred table of communion. You shall pave our sanctuary with marble ; you shall adorn it with luxuri- ant menuiseries ; with pictures, sculptures, and statues ; with purple seats, soft carpets, and dazzling lustres. In the centre you shall erect an altar of the richest stone ; and before we mount its steps, you shall buy for us and shall dress us with sacerdotal ornaments, PAITI, AND JULIA. 99 shining with, silk, embroideries, silver, gold, and pre- cious stones. Thereon we will summon God to leave heaven, to he present in our hands, and to obey, pas- sively, our will. You shall put up a throne by the altar. We will sit thereon, crowned with a mitre, and holding a sceptre. The great of the world only, and the handsomest boys, will be permitted to surround the throne, and to kiss, on their knees, our feet or hands. Whenever we do rise up, you shall kneel and prostrate yourselves on the floor of the nave. Then we will extend our arms, and bless you. You shall erect a tribune ; the steps thereof we will mount to teach you ; you shall call it the sacred desk, because therefrom we will impose upon you our interpretation of the gospel. You shall make confessionals, wherein, kneeling before us, you shall reveal to us your thoughts and feelings, and shall confess all you have done opposed to our will, that thereby are sins before God. Then we will extend our hand over your head, will pronounce, if it is our good will, mysterious words, and your sins will be forgiven ; your soul will become as clean, as white, as snow, and from sinners and accursed of God that you were, you will be just, and favorites of God." " ' And the people build for us splendid churches ; divide them into two parts ; the one for us, the other for themselves. They call ours sanctuary, and theirs nave. They raise up a gilded railing separating them, and call it the sacred table of communion. They pave our sanctuary with marble ; adorn it with luxuriant menui- series, with pictures, sculptures, and statues ; with pur- ple seats, soft carpets, and dazzling lustres. They erect in the centre an altar of the richest stone ; buy PAUL AND JULIA. for us and dress us with sacerdotal ornaments, shining with silk, embroideries, silver, gold, and precious stones. They put up a throne by the altar, and we sit therein crowned with a mitre, and holding a scep- tre. The great of the world and the handsomest boys solicit the favor of standing around our throne, of kiss- ing, on their knees, our feet and hands. The people, when we rise up, kneel and prostrate themselves on the floor of the nave to receive our benediction. The peo- ple erect a tribune ; the steps thereof we mount to teach them ; they call it the sacred desk. They make con- fessionals wherein they reveal to us their thoughts and feelings, confess, and are absolved of their sins. " ' Is this not, young friend, the hundred fold of the honor that we have renounced ? But this is not all. Out of our sanctuary we are like Moses coming down from Mount Sinai, with the two tables of testimony in his hands ; the people believe that our faces shine with a divine light. They are respectful and afraid to come nigh us. All of them bow to us in the streets and public squares. The great of the world deem them- selves highly honored when we appear in their parlors, or sit at their tables. We drink out of the cup of kings, and overrule their courts, their armies, and their people. "We compel them to come and kneel before us to ask us what they must think, feel, and do ; to con- fess, and receive from our good will the absolution of their sins. "'Was I not right saying that we monks receive in religion the hundred fold of the honors that we liave renounced ? " 'We monks have renounced wealth. But we are PAUL AXD JULIA. 101 as rich as kings. The farmers sow and harvest for us. The vinedressers raise for us the most delicate grapes, and press the most generous wines. The sailors cross the seas, and bring to us, from foreign lands, the rich- est gifts. The merchants present us with their hest goods. The mechanics lavish upon us their lahor, and the artists their talent. All classes of society work to enrich us, because they understand well that we, being potent and influential, can be of great service to them. And behold, count, if you can, the splendid convents and country houses which the people have put up for us ; all the rich and immense property that they have bought for us all over the world. Besides, count, if you can, the amount of money which we have in our cellars, in our chests, in the banks, and every where. More- over, do you not see with your own eyes that the mag- nificence of this convent isfeerique ? " ' I ask you now, young friend, if we monks do not receive and enjoy in religion the hundred fold of the wealth that we have renounced. " ' We have renounced pleasures. But what are they in society ? Bitterness, and nothing else. In re- ligion we enjoy them without disturbance. We are rid of the care of a family. We enjoy wealth with- out fearing to lose it ; we gather roses without being pricked by their thorns. Moreover, can you conceive a greater or nobler pleasure than to shine on the chan- delier ; to rank above society ; to be mediator between God and man ; than to rule men as Providence rules the universe ? " ' Is this not the hundred fold of the pleasures that we have renounced ? 9* 102 PAUL AND JULIA. " ' We have renounced our family according to the flesh ; but we have adopted a family according to God. Our carnal parents loved us with a material and sensual love ; but in religion our superiors love us more tender- ly. We had but one father and one mother, a few brothers and sisters ; but in religion it is not so ; if we travel all over the globe, we find in all kingdoms, em- pires, and republics, even in all savage tribes, eccle- siastical superiors who love us more than our fathers and mothers did ; we find brothers who, instead of being selfish, carnal, and our enemies, as our brothers and sisters would have been, entertain for us a true fraternal affection. " ' Is it not the hundred fold of the enjoyments that the family which we have renounced would have af- forded to us ? " ' We have renounced hymen ; but the eternal beau- ty offers us its charms ; the source of the infinite love- liness fills our heart. We plunge into the ocean of the divine perfectness, and lose ourselves in its deep. In- toxicated with love, our soul masters our flesh, leaves our body, takes her flight to the celestial regions, and unites to her divine husband. She exclaims in her de- lirium, in her burning kisses, " Plenty of joy, Lord ! plenty of voluptuousness, my divine Spouse ! O, en- large my heart, for it is overflowing." " ' I ask you now, young friend, if in the reli- gious life we have not the hundred fold of the enjoy- ments that honors, wealth, pleasure, family, and hymen would have afforded to us had we not renounced them ? ' " ' Reverend father, I beg leave to say, that if I was PAUL AND JULIJL. 103 not aware that, being a lieutenant of God on eartn, all that you say in his name is right, I should be scan- dalized at what you say on the hundred fold of honors, wealth, pleasures, family, and hymen, that the monks enjoy in religion : it is anti-Christian.' " ' Stop, young friend ; you are about to blaspheme. Alas ! I must excuse your ignorance of the science of the gospel. You do not apprehend the holiness and sublimity of the doctrine which we monks, and the whole Romish church, hold on the words of the gospel, that I have related to you.' And why do you not ap- prehend them ? Because your sins obnubilate your soul, and render it unable to receive so precious a seed.' " ' O reverend father, how much I have to mourn over my past life, over my numberless iniquities ! Would that I had been virtuous, that I might have apprehended the doctrine which, you say, would make me happy here below and hereafter.' " ' Young friend, cheer up ; God is merciful. I, like you, have lived in the world. I, like you, belonged to a rich family. I, like you, saw a brilliant career un- rolling itself before my eyes. I have, perhaps, more than you to mourn over a stormy youth.' " ' O my father, what do you mean ? ' " ' What I say is, unfortunately for me, too true. I was sent by my family to Naples for the purpose of studying law. I was then twenty years of age. At first I remained virtuous ; but soon after I forgot, as you did, many religious practices, and withal lost my relish for study. The glitter of the world deceived me ; its exterior fascinations excited in my soul a thirst 104 PAUL AND JULIA. for enjoyment, and kindled in my heart the desire to participate therein. But a barrier was raised before me, which I thought insurmountable. I was enchained, and believed the rigors of religion had riveted my fetters. A sweet voice invited me to mirth; but I trembled at the menaces of an angry God. An en- chanted path was before me ; but at its termination I saw threatening eternal precipices. I desired to gather flowers in the spring time of life, and crown myself with roses; but they were to leave in my hands a deadly poison. I desired to sacrifice myself to my youth, but I could not at the same time devote myself to virtue. I wished, and I did not wish. I vowed my heart to the practice of austere devotion ; but, sur- prised, I found myself floating with delight on the river of voluptuousness. " I will disembark," said I ; but immediately the shore faded from my sight. I was vanquished. " ' Then I offered my incense to liberty and the god of pleasure. Excitement was necessary to me, and I found it every day ; dress, promenades, entertainments, play, festivities, balls, theatres in their turn paid tribute to me. All the powers of my being, virgin and vigor- ous, drank of these delights to intoxication, and never found bitterness at the bottom of the cup. I took with pleasure, and left without regret. I flew from flower to flower, but never exhausted the cup. I reaped with full sickle in the field of happiness. Alas ! once on the precipice, I fell to the bottom of the gulf. I still felt the influence of virtue, the thought of glory, filial ten- derness, and religion ; but I soon trampled upon them. I asked myself, " What is the weight of glory in the scale PAUL AXD JULIA, 105 of pleasure ? What does it signify to my family that I become the slave of study or pleasure, if they are ignorant of my conduct ? What have I to fear from religion ? I have a long future in which to return to her." " ' I yielded to the weakness of my senses, and fol- lowed the most inordinate desires of my heart. How- ever, I was soon disgusted ; my sensibilities were blunted, my spirits dull, my heart withered, and my whole being enfeebled and wasted. My remorse was so great, and produced in me a void so profound, that I longed for death. " ' Young friend, I have, as you see now, to mourn more than you over a stormy youth. Notwithstand- ing, mark, God in his mercy opened my eyes, and called me to him. He permitted me to see all the sublimity of the religious life, all the happiness Avhich it affords in leading surely to the eternal felicity of paradise. I entered then into religion ; and from that time till this day I have tasted celestial joys that were unknown to my soul while living in the world.' " ' Reverend father, how happy you are to have been drawn out of the abyss of iniquity, to have been for- given by God, and called by him to the religious life ! ' " ' I still had not more evident proofs of my divine calling than you have now. Had I not yielded to the will of God, declared to me by his ministers, I should have, instead of working out my salvation in the world, assured my endless reprobation. I have, then, to say to you that you must make my example profitable to you ; that you ought to keep well in your mind that 106 PAUL AND JULIA. you are certainly called by God to the religious life ; that if you harden longer your ears to his voice, and your heart to his grace, and do not enter into religion, your eternal salvation will be at stake. And what say I ? To speak more exactly and truly, you can- not escape the eternal reprobation, and work out your eternal salvation, except by incessant miracles ; but to trust in miracles from God is sinful, for it is to tempt him.' " ' But, reverend father, as I have already said to you, I feel against the religious life the utmost reluc- tance.' " ' It is an artifice of the spirit of darkness, that is aware of your divine calling, and uses all means to hinder your soul from seeing light.' " ' Then, reverend father, you believe that God calls me to religion.' " ' I not only believe it, but I know it from himself: and do not attenuate my words ; ponder well their tenor. I declare to you, in God's name, that you have to enter into religion, and this, for you, as an almost absolute condition of eternal salvation.' " ' Since I must, I will enter into religion. But how unhappy I shall be! The hundred fold you spoke of is for me without charms. Life in a convent, though comfortable, seems to me sad and dark. Your secret of happiness will make me unhappy.' " ' You are mistaken. As soon as you enter the convent, you will taste the joys of which I have spoken.' " ' And my mother ? ' P4.UL AND JULIA. 107 " * What have you more to do with your mothei, when God calls you ? Did not Christ say to his, " Woman, what have I to do with thee ? " The doors of the convent are open to you ; come to look for, in thi? ark, a refuge against the deluge of iniquities whica overflows the world.' 108 PAUL AXD JULIA. CHAPTER XIX. PAUL FALLS IN LOVE. ENERABLE chief, here I recall painful recollections. The mysterious day arose on which I was to date the sacrifice of myself to God, but from which are dated horrible sufferings, that cause me to relapse into my former state. Then I had never loved. " It was the morning of a great festival. I thought- fully made my prepara- tions, took the road to the monastery, and on my way passed before a church. At that moment the ring- ing of bells summoned the faithful to the house of God. A ceremony was about to commence. Curios- ity arrested my steps, and I contemplated a great crowd, hurriedly collecting. The touching simplicity of the common people, and the religious and thoughtful air of some pious ladies, charmed me. I was insensible to the grace and beauty of the young Neapolitans, and saw with contempt the splendor of the equipages, the elegance and beauty of the toilets. PAUL AND JULIA. 109 " Suddenly a young girl appeared near me. At the sight of her 1 was immovable ; my heart beat with sweet and indescribable emotions. She penetrated the crowd, and disappeared. I felt she had already robbed my soul of its peace and liberty. In passing, the beau- tiful unknown had invested me with the livery of sla- very the golden chain of love. I followed, and sought her in the church, and knelt near her. At that moment the organ began to breathe, and fill with its deep and melodious- tones the immense church. Seraphic voices in charming harmony sang a hymn of praise to the Eternal. Levites in white tunics slowly advanced into the sanctuary, bearing in their hands symbolic lights and numerous censers ; others with golden insignia, followed by white-haired priests, who came to assist at the sacrifice. After these came the pontiff, who was to officiate at the holy sacrifice, robed in cloth of gold. One hand rested on the crosier, glit- tering with precious stones ; and with the other, on which shone a ring set with diamonds, he gave his blessing to the congregation. Arriving at the foot of the altar, he mounted the steps, and was enveloped in clouds of incense, curling up towards heaven. Then he asked of the Almighty the fire which purified the lips of Isaiah ; bowed under the weight of the sins and transgressions of the people ; struck his breast thrice, to represent to God the general contrition ; then offered the sacrifice. " The crowd silently passed out, but I had not offered one of my thoughts to God. I was prostrate ; yet I had not addressed him one prayer. I had adored, but it was a strange divinity. She alone had fixed my 10 110 PAUL AND JULIA. gaze ; to her alone had I prayed in my inmost heart ; to her alone had I offered sacrifice. My offering was agreeable to her, for I obtained a look, a smile ; and afterwards she wrote me these words, so much desired by my heart, and so delightful to my soul, " I love you" "I went no more to the monastery. I forgot the monk, my family, God, and myself. I even forgot my own existence. At the thought of her I loved, I became intoxicated by a delicious delirium. I bore with me in my solitude her image, her voice, her eyes, her smiles, her tears, her charms. I felt nothing in my heart but her and her love. I said to myself, ' How proud you would be to possess her ! How happy to be united to her ! What else could you wish for ? Earth would be a paradise ! Would you have any thing to envy in the bliss of heaven ? ' Alas ! my in- toxication was of short duration. An unknown, whom, notwithstanding my researches, I have never been able to see again, gave me secretly a small box, and then withdrew before I could speak to him. I hastily opened it. What was my surprise, when I discovered it contained a golden heart and a lock of hair ! " When Paul uttered, these words, Julia grew pale ; the expression of her eyes changed, and she fixed a penetrating look upon him. He perceived it, and was surprised, but continued : " At first my happiness was extreme ; but one painful thought soon forced itself upon my mind, and dissi- pated my illusion. ' She has quitted Naples,' I said ; ' and, leaving, has sent me this remembrance. She was to me only a shooting star, or a meteor bright- PAUL AND JULIA. 1 1 t ening the heavens.' I sought her for a long time, and at length became exhausted by my fruitless efforts. I did not see her again, nor could I ascertain where she had fixed her abode. " Since then, God alone has been the witness of my anguish and suffering. I thought no more of my own existence ; I suffered without feeling my pain. To dissipate my melancholy, I went to soirees ; but they were irksome to me. I threw myself into the vortex of past pleasures ; but I found only bitterness. The theatre, for a time, seemed to charm and lull my grief; but leaving it, I found myself in a frightful gulf; it only aggravated the disease which was destroying me ; like oil, it revived the flame which was consuming me. I fled the tumultuous city ; retired into solitude ; but there also I bore my chains ; and when I endeavored to cast them off, they fell more heavily upon my heart. 112 PAUL AND JULIA. CHAPTER XX. PAUL'S DBEAMS OF LOTE. NE evening, sad and mus- ing, I strolled along the quay. It was near the close of day ; the lights burned brightly. Vesuvi- us flooded the bay, some- times with a reddish, then a sombre, and then a bril- liant light. Fishing boats in full sail were enter- ing the port, and several ships, with their furled sails, slowly gliding among the lines. The sailors had deserted the sailyarda ; they no longer made the capstan creak, relieving themselves by their monoto- nous songs, nor with the united efforts of their strong arms lifted heavy burdens on the deck. With their numerous oars they hastened to the shore, and joyful with the thought of the evening's pleasure, sang in an harmonious choir some lovely couplets of an. Italian song. It was the hour of cessation from labor ; all became still. " I then cast my eyes upon the sea ; the surface thereof was slightly ruffled by the breeze. Thoughts as PAUL AND JULIA. 113 strange as irresistible beset my mind. How happy I should be, I said, to find her again. We would fly on these billows. Immensity would open its arms to us. We should be secure from the tyranny of mortals. We would soon land at some hospitable shore ; or, if Heayen should be unpropitious, the same bosom would shroud our loves. If one of the cities of Europe would give us an asylum, my mother would pity our suffer- ings, and make our days flow happily. Should we bo conveyed to some solitary shore, that spot would be our universe. My own hands would procure the daily food for her I love. My life should be spent in charm- ing her solitude ; and when years would have emptied the cup of our love, the sarr-e tomb would receive us. " So great was my delirium, that this imaginary idea for a moment consoled my grief. I returned home, flattering myself with this vain thought, that one day my dream would be realized. " On my arrival, I received a letter from my mother, advising me to leave Naples, and return to her. 10* 114 PAUL AND JULIA. CHAPTER XXI. PAUL IN ATHENS. 'IMMEDIATELY left Na- ples,and after a short voyage arrived at Athens. I found my mother still inconsola- ble for the death of my fa- ther, and my whole family in deep affliction. On behold- ing me, my mother burst into tears ; deep sobs choked her utterance ; she threw herself into my arms, and for some time gave vent to j her grief. " This heart-rending scene, [the mourning apparel, the loneliness of the domestic hearth, the sight of the tomb of my father, where I daily went to pray, and above all the despair of never seeing the girl I loved, plunged me into a deep melancholy. My mother strove for a long time, but in vain, to console and divert me. " One day she accompanied me to the house of one of my father's friends. We found his daughter playing upon the harp ; the chords trembled harmoniously under her touch. She sang these words of the prophet : ' By the rivers of Babylon there we sat down, yea, and we PAUL AXD JUUA. 115 wept when we remembered Zion. "We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song ; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, say- ing, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land ? ' " Her voice was angelic ; her fingers made the senti- ments expressed in this sacred poetry flow like waves upon the chords. Her azure eyes were raised to heaven, her mouth and all her countenance reflected the inspi- ration of her soul. The tears that flowed down her cheeks betrayed the feelings of her heart; the words falling from her lips seemed symbolical ; every thing about her indicated some mysterious sentiment, the ardor of all that was burning and concealed in a soli- tary love. She had felt as I had felt, she had suffered as I had done. There was such an identity between her soul and mine ; I was so frantically happy in my grief, that, seeing her, I thought I beheld my best be- loved, not suspecting that I was deluded. After that I visited her frequently. Near her I was raptured; I was supremely happy. But soon my eyes undeceived me ; she no longer resembled my loved one. In vain I saw her ravishing beauty, her admirable spirit, and her glowing heart ; I no longer loved her. I relapsed into sadness and melancholy. My mother who, wishing by this union to have me established near her, had encouraged this love expressed to me her dis- pleasure. I then told her that, during my sojourn in Naples, another woman had won my heart. In vain she pictured to me the riches, the honors, the felicity this union would give me. I implored her to allow me 116 PAUL AND JULIA. to return to Naples, seek the one I loved, unite myself to her, and return to be her support and consolation. She opposed me for some time ; but finding me reso- lute, she finally consented PAUL AND JULIA. 117 CHAPTER XXII. PAUL COMES AGAIN TO NAPLES. HE MEETS WIXK FATHER FHANCIS. ENERABLE chief, during several months I wandered through the streets, fre- quented the public squares, the churches, and theatres of Naples. I sought every where, but never met the woman I loved. I then lost all hope. " One day Father Francis came to me. " At length,' he said, 'I meet you, and can rejoice. My son was dead, and he is come again to life. I had lost you, and to-day I have found you. Explain to me why you do not come to the convent, and why you have not visited me for so long.' " I cast down my eyes, blushed, and remained without in answer. I then recollected all that he had done Cor the salvation of my soul, particularly my resolution of entering into religion, which he had imposed upon me as a sacred obligation, and I still had forgot. I related to him my encounter with a girl when I wse 118 PAUL AND JULIA. going to the monastery ; the passion which she had kindled in me ; my departure, and my sojourn in Ath- ens ; the circumstances of my coming back to Naples ; the disappearance of the girl whom I loved ; my searches to find her, and my despair in foreseeing that my love would never be crowned. " Whilst I related these circumstances, I saw his face turning alternately pale, fiery, expressing stupefaction, indignation, and sorrow. When I ceased to speak, he did not utter a single word, but remained silent and thoughtful. After a moment, he addressed me with animation : " ' O God ! how monstrous your prevarications have been ! What ! You have loved a woman, and still love her ? An impure flame consumes your heart ? A woman, that personified devil, has expelled God from your soul, and you have therein erected to her a throne whereupon she reigns ? I explain to myself the sins of the flesh, the brutal passion ; for the doctors of the church and the theologians admit at- tenuating circumstances. Jesus Christ himself has said, " The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." But the love of woman ! Heaven ! what dis- organization ! what depravation of the whole man ! It is written, " The Lord thy God is a jealous God among you." St. Paul says, " By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin." And who induced Adam to'sin? Eve. Has not Bathsheba seduced the holy King David ? Has not woman betrayed Samson, put Mm in the hands of his enemies, and caused his death ? Is not woman compared to a serpent by all the mys- tical authors ? " Her eyes are charming," they write, PAUL AND JULIA. 119 ' but they give death." Has St. Paul spoken of love, when he taught the faithful on marriage ? No. He used only the word charity. " ' Judge by your own experience to what an extent woman can waste a heart. By the precious gift of ab- solution, you were in peace with your conscience ; and now you are much more culpable than you had ever been. God by my voice called you to the religious life, and you have not listened to him ; you went so far in your rebellion against him as to lose even the recollection of your holy resolutions.' " ' But, my father, how great is my astonishment ! I did not suspect I had sinned. I thought that the love of man for woman is a law of the Creator. I loved a woman merely because I saw in her some image or emanation of the loveliness of God.' " ' Love is the most infamous of the prostitutions, for our body is merely matter and flesh ; but the heart is a spirit, and an image of the Deity. Love is one of the greatest among the greatest crimes : and if you do not renounce the love of the creature to love exclusive- ly the Creator ; if you do not accompany me, confess your sins, repent them, and obtain their pardon by ab- solution ; if you do not make penance, and do not listen to the voice of God addressed to you by my mouth, and espouse the religious life, I cannot but tremble for your future.' " ' My father, undoubtedly I have sinned, for you say so ; but in spite of my will I cannot believe it. My reason and my heart teach me too clearly that love is not sinful. St. Paul himself has said, " Husbands, love your wives." ' 120 PA.TTL AND JULIA. " * Well ; but he has added, " Even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it." But it is ttot a question of reason, of heart, even of the gospel, for are not we priests commissioned by God to ex- *laiTl it ? ' " Isram, the utterance of Father Francis impressed me so deeply, that in a moment I felt I was another ian. I accompanied him, confessed my sins, received absolution, and buried myself in solitude to pray and meditate. After that, and ia lieu of my great agita- tion, a holy calm filled my soul. Though love was powerful in iny Heart, I hearkened to the voice of religion ; and 1 felt that God had resumed his reign in my heart. I then thought again of the Christian du- ties I had abandoned, and of my design to enter a eligious life. I felt that I had been the sport of my imagination . and the victim of my heart ; that I had not been faithful to the grace of God ; that the love of the creature had estranged me from the love of the Creator ; and that I had not suffered sufficiently be- muse of this. Where God is not the first in our nearts, there is disorganization ; and where this is, vhere is no peace nothing but suffering. " One day, crossing a public square, I saw at a short 4istance a lady whom I believed to be the girl I thought 1 had ceased to love. I ran to assure myself, but she was lost in the crowd ; I saw her no more. " This incident produced a frightful tempest in my soul. A frantic start of joy agitated my frame ; the joy of my heart was intoxication, or rather madness. It seemed to me that I should certainly meet her flgain ; that she would preserve her heart for me ; and 3PA.UL AND JULIA. 121 that, in sending nie a souvenir, she showed she did not wish to bid me an eternal adieu,' 1 When Paul pronounced these last words, tears mois- tened the eyelids of Julia. He remarked it, stopped an instant, and in an agitated voice continued, " Recollections then besieged my memory; the num- ber and impetuosity of my thoughts transported my rnind^ I even neglected to struggle, but gave free vent to my imagination. This was my misfortune. " The discourses of the monk, which before had ap- peared to me so wise and so true, now seemed but a tissue of exaggerations and errors. The circumstances of my conversion to God, which I had regarded as aston- ishing, were now but dreams and illusions. The world seemed the abode of happiness. Affection, family, the tenderness of my mother's love, and hymen presented charms to me before unknown. The present filled the measure of my desires, and the'future realized my hopes. The cloister, on the contrary, appeared sad and terrible as the grave : the sombre dress, the silence, the fasts, the haircloth, the discipline inspired me with aversion and horror. " ' After all,' thought I, ' in the world salvation is possible, and I will reap its happiness.' Still this sud- den change alarmed me. I went to my director ; told him of the occurrence which had taken place ; related to him my trouble, the greatness of my joy, the deliri- um of happiness which had given me hope, the reflec- tions I had made upon his discourses, and my aversion to a religious life. " He listened to me kindly, and spoke to me thus : " ' The oak grows only in the region of storms. Gold 11 122 PAUL AND JULIA. is purified only in the crucible. Man becomes strong and vigorous only by passing through the fire of adver- sity. The sailor becomes mariner only in the tempest. Soldiers become warriors only on the field of battle. You, who wish to grow to the height of virtue, ought to be convinced that you will only take root by being exposed to the winds of adversity. You are called by God to be a wall of brass before opposition, to sustain the battles of the Lord, and to pilot your brothers on the ocean of the world. It is, then, necessary to prove yourself a warrior, and be instructed in the school of temptation. It is the road pointed out by Jesus Christ to his disciples. He conquered, and through him you will conquer ; but for that watch and pray. The angel of darkness transforms himself before you into an angel of light, and you are deceived by this fallacious light. He spread under your feet nets full of craftiness and perfidy, which have caused not only neophytes, but he- roes of virtue, to fall. The greatest saints feared, and fled into solitude to avoid them. Still in the depths of their retreat they heard the voice of the sirens, and felt its influence. " ' St. Jerome retired into a corner of Palestine : there he subdued his body, and suppressed his sensi- bility ; still, when he saw the Roman ladies, the sight of them touched his heart, and shook his judgment. " ' St. Augustine withdrew into a silent retreat in Africa, lived retired from the world and its seductions, but still he dreamed of the woman he loved. " ' St. Mary of Egypt, though buried in a desert oeyond the Jordan, could not drown by her tears of repentance the charming recollections of her former loves. PATTL AND JULIA. 128 " ' How many apostles, martyrs, and confessors, had, by means of mortification and labor, to repulse these seductive images ! " ' Your perils are imminent ; of this you can judge by the troubles which these assaults have produced in your mind and heart. Thanks be given to- divine mercy, you have come to his minister to be enlightened and fortified ; but experience will teach you that you will have new attacks to sustain. Struggle, then, against them, and come to the priest whom God has commissioned to guard your soul. Listen to and fol- low his counsel ; your obedience will be your pledge of victory, for it is written, " He that heareth you hear- eth me ; he that despiseth you despiseth me." The obedient man gains the victory. Since God calls you to a religious life, harden not your heart, but be atten- tive to my voice. Cast aside human considerations ; strive against the remembrance of love, which is de- stroying the peace of your soul, and may endanger your salvation. Walk with firmness and constancy in the path of virtue, and when I deem your heart is suf- ficiently disengaged from the things of the world, the doors of the monastery will be open to you. As soon as they shall be closed upon you, the world will be to you as if it existed not ; you Avill forget the remem- brance of it. This place of refuge will be to you a heaven, where nothing will trouble the repose and se- renity of your soul.' " ' Father,' said I, ' if, after having entered into a religious life, I have always before my eyes the woman whom I loved, my mother, my family, and society, in the bosom of which I could have been saved, what 124 PAUL AND JtTLIA. will be my despair! My regrets will be without remedy.' " ' Fear not. God will permit these things to advance you in perfection. The devil will disturb the peace of your soul with dangerous recollections ; but by prayer you will conquer. It is said, " Ask and it shall be given you." Prayer penetrates the heavens. If you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you can remove mountains. Moreover, cast your eyes around you, and see that he extends the mantle of his providence to every being who raises to him the prayer of humility. If he lets the plant be parched by the heat of the summer sun, he sends the dews to refresh its stems and beautify its petals with the richest colors. If he leaves the onager to wander thirsty in the desert, instinct teaches him to scrape the sands, and to cause fountains to spring up to qxiench his thirst.' " But my family ? ' " ' The parents of man are his enemies ; the most pious saints have renounced them.' " ' My mother will die of sorrow.' " ' Do you know not that Christ said to one of his apostles, " Let the dead bury their dead " ? ' " ' She will come to compel me to leave the mon- astery.' " ' It shall not be in her power. Moreover, know and keep well in your mind that the Cardinal Bellar- mine and the most celebrated Catholic divines of our holy church teach that a son may, and consequently must, kill his father and mother, when they oppose his divine calling.' " ' What ! reverend father ? I shudder.' PAUL AND JULIA. " ' I am not surprised at it. You are not yet a true disciple of Christ. You have not yet meditated on these words fallen from his mouth : " Children shall rise up against their parents, and shall cause them to be put to death." ' " ' Revered father, your interpretation of the words of Christ rebels my reason and my heart ; still, as you speak to me in the name of God, I must believe. But I will not dare give my mother the intelligence of my ^entrance into religion.' " ' Do not write to her.' " ' Not explaining to her the prolongation of my so- journ in Naples, she will recall me to the maternal house.' " ' If it happens, you shall write to her that you are managing your marriage with the woman whom you love.' " ' It will be a lie.' " ' Certainly not. St. Liguori and the most cele- brated theologians hold the opposite doctrine. Jesus Christ himself teaches us in his gospel, that only *' those things defile the man which come from the heart." Besides, our intentions sanctify our words and deeds ; and more, I am a priest, and speak to you in the name of God, who has said, " He that heareth you heareth me ; he that despiseth you despiseth me." Have confidence, then. Remember that God, who orders you to embrace the religious life, will give you the means to be faithful to this vocation.' 11* 126 PAUL AND JULIA. CHAPTER XXIII. PAUL S DESPAIK. ENERABLE chief, an- other day approached, on which I was to quit the world, consecrate myself to God, and devote myself to the apostleship. Stormy thoughts agitated my mind, and an in- describable bitterness filled my heart. God willed still that I should sustain again a horrible combat. The religious life and the world, devotion and the senses, apostleship and love, disputed with my soul. I re- sisted for some time ; but the struggle exhausted my strength ; I fell conquered, and yielded to despair. ' Die,' thought I, ' since you live only to suffer, and God comes not to your aid ! He cannot be a tyrant ; he will be touched by your sufferings. Is he not a father to his children? Would he be a tiger, thirst- ing for their blood, I shall have but hastened my eternity of misery. Why should I remain upon the earth, where I shall live but a life of trials and suf- ferings ? ' FA.T7X. AXD JULIA. 127 ** I convulsively wrote my last wishes ; penned a few hasty lines to console my mother, and inform her of iny death; calmly seized a poniard, and directed my steps towards a lonely place. " In the anguish of my soul, I had lost my way, and was surprised to find myself alone on the sea shore. * Well,' thought I, ' death will be to me easier and more certain ; the waves will bury my body and my griefs.' Disrobing myself, I felt upon my breast the pledge of love, for me a token so soft and bitter, and an image of the Virgin, that my mother had hung around my neck on the day of our separation. A sigh escaped me ; my agony became extreme, and I fell into a profound lethargy. I imagined myself exposed in a frail bark upon the ocean, in impenetrable darkness. Around me the sea arose in angry surges. Unable to find the shore, I was about to yield myself to the mercy of the waves, when the woman I adored appeared to me in the distance, surrounded by a bright light. ' Look at me,' she said ; ' I will be your guide,' At the sight of her, I trembled with delight and hope. I directed my course towards her ; but the nearer I approached, the more the waves increased, and she disappeared. In despair I quitted the helm, and awaited death, " Another luminous object attracted my attention. I recognized my mother. I heard her voice, saying, ' My dear Paul, come to me ; I will save you.' I im- mediately regained confidence and courage, and I seized the helm ; but the waves again increased, and the light vanished ; I no longer saw my mother. Disheartened, I abandoned the bark to the mercy of the waves. " I was about to sink, when I saw through the 128 FAUJ, AXD JULIA. clouds a transparent light ; it increased, and a woman, beautiful as a divinity, appeared above the foaming waves, borne on curling clouds of light. She wore a tunic of dazzling whiteness ; her face beamed with celestial light ; her look was mild, her smile gracious. She said to me, in a soft voice, which was heard above the roaring of the waves, ' My son, I am the star of the sea ; the relief of the shipwrecked : I am the mother of God. Have confidence ; come to me, and I will conduct you to the port. I will be your compass upon the raging sea of life.' And I felt a it were a hand of fire engraving on my heart the steadfast resolution of embracing the religious life. I felt a superhuman strength arise in me. As I directed my bark towards her, the tempest subsided, the waves became calm, and I soon regained the shore. She disappeared. " "When I recovered my senses, I found myself pros- trate on the earth. I heard a familiar voice saying to Hie, ' Arise ! ' It was the monk, standing near me. I related to him my despair, and the dream of my im- agination. His face became radiant ; his eyes kin- dled ; and he said to me in transport, ' Fall on your knees, and return thanks to God. That which you call a dream of the imagination is a peculiar grace of God. My coming to this place was providential. Do not harden your heart. God evidently calls you to the religious life. " ' Then, in the name of God, in the name of my au- thority as your spiritual father, in the name of your temporal happiness, and of the salvation of your soul, I bid you not defer to enter into religion.' PAUL AXD JULIA. 129 CHAPTER XXIV. ENTRANCE OF PAUL INTO RELIGION. HIS MOTHER CALLS UPON HIM. OON after I entered into the monastery, I went to the superior, who put me these questions : " ' Who are you ? ' " ' A great sinner,' I re- sponded. " ' What will you ? ' " ' To make penitence in religion ; to sanctify my- self, and contribute to the salvation of s.ouls.' " ' Are you ready to re- nounce the world ? ' " ' Yes, very reverend fa- ther.' " ' Are you ready to go to the extremities of the world ? to accept all offices that the superiors will assign to you for the glory of God, your own sanctifica- tion, and the salvation of souls : ' " ' Yes, very reverend father.' " 'Will you wear his livery of ignominy, bear unjust- ly in imitation of him, and for his love endure hu- miliation, false testimony, and injury? ' " ' Yes, very reverend father.' 130 PAUL AXD JULIA. " He kissed me, exposed to me the duties and diffi- culties of the religious profession, and painted with en- thusiasm its advantages and joys. " He appointed for my confessor and director Fa- ther Francis, whom. I considered as my friend and fa- ther. Then I began my novitiate. " The superior led me into a cell, wherein, during thirty days, I was to remember, in the sorrow of my heart, the disorders of my former years, meditate on the importance of my calling, on the means of sanctify- ing myself, and becoming worthy of the apostlaship. He gave me several counsels, and before going out of my cell, said to me, " ' My brother, in solitude God converses with the soul, and grants it his light. If the earth is cursed, it is only because the people do not reflect upon themselves ; it is far from society that the fire of love kindles in the soul. There our soul flies as the eagle, and wanders in the highest regions ; it contemplates heaven, ad- mires its magnificence ; then, lowering its looks, it contemplates the meanness of the earth, and her noth- ingness. It thus casts away the old man, clothes it- self with the new man, and starts out of this cenacle, enlightened, purified, strong to fight for God ; the re- treat has generated the Christian heroes, the men of God. " ' As to me, when I entered into religion, I became soon familiar with solitude, and enjoyed therein pleas- ures unknown to the world. " ' Sometimes I felt a kind of superhuman power which carried me out far from the earth ; truth ap- peared to me shining, and virtue full of charms. I PAUL AXD JULIA. 131 vras in a kind of mysterious sanctuary, wherein I tasted a divine voluptuousness.' " Having said so, he bade me kneel ; extended his arm, and performed the sign of the cross over my head to bless me. " Isram, I will not undertake to paint all I suf- fered during those thirty days of trials, and the first months of my novitiate. God alone has witnessed and knows how sad and bitter were my regrets and recol- lections ; how incessantly and reproachfully I saw before my eyes the image of the woman the love of whom I trampled upon; my family, the affection of which I renounced ; my brothers and sisters, whom I abandoned orphans and helpless ; my poor mother, whose heart and existence I broke down, the grave of whom I had opened. The monks, to console and strengthen me, lavished on me the most encouraging words, the most affectionate regards and caresses ; but all was useless. Would I had not believed that I was bound to obey them as God, as if they had been him- self ; I would have instantly left the convent. " One morning the reverend father superior an- nounced the arrival of my mother. ' Be strong against flesh and blood,' he told me ; ' keep yourself constant- ly in the presence of God. Remember that if you are vanquished, you sacrifice your dearest interests for the present and future life. Your mother will be to you a fascinating serpent ; beware then of her seductions. Speak very little, and be cautious in your responses. I will pray for you.' ' My heart beat with indescribable palpitations. I felt both fear and joy. I descended to the parlor, and 132 PAUL A> T D JULIA. was about to kiss my mother, when she with a sign of her hand repulsed me, and turned her head ; then cast- ing on me fiery looks, she exclaimed, " ' Is it my son whom I see with this gown of friar ? ' " I turned pale, and all my limbs were trembling. " ' My mother,' I answered, ' be not irritated.' " ' Can I believe what I see ? And he is my Paul, the son whom I have loved so tenderly ! ' " ' My mother, why now treat that son with so much anger ? ' " ' You my son ? ' *' ' Still you know my feelings towards you.' " ' Your feelings towards me ? O, irony ! ' " I wished to take her hand and kiss it, but she motioned me away, saying, " ' As much as I have loved you, as much you were unworthy of my love.' " ' O my mother,' I answered, ' why such a harsh- ness ? ' " ' You have no longer a right to my love. A son who casts away the remembrance of his father, the tomb of whom is still open, who denies his memory, denies brothers, sisters, denies his mother ! ' " ' O, no, my mother, I have not ' " ' Dare you call me by this name ? You mock me ! " ' What ! your father dies, your relations are in the deepest affliction, your mother desponding ; and in such circumstances you renounce your family, mock the'r sorrow ; you, son, deny your mother ! ' " ' Ah ! could you know my sentiments ! ' PAUL AND JULIA. 133 ' ' Your sentiments ! Your heart is harder than ada- mant ! You have unworthily deceived me.' " ' God alone knows what I have suffered.' " ' Where is that worshipped woman, who, you said, had won your love, and attracted you to Naples ? Where is the project of that marriage which was to make you so happy, to bring you again to the bosom ,of your family, and near your mother ? Hypocrisy ! It was to enter that convent. Great God ! he who was to honor the name of his father, to be his shame ! he who was the glory of his family, to be their ignominy ! he who was to be my consolation, ray pride, to be tho cause of my affliction and humiliation ! O, why has God permitted me to bear a son that should bring me in sorrow to the grave ? ' " ' My mother, pray let me justify myself.' " ' Your justification would be hypocrisy and false- hood nothing else. There is no justification for a son who denies his family, especially his mother ! ' " ' Pray, listen to me. I did not find again in Na- ples the woman whom I loved, then.' " ' Why then did you not return home ? ' " ' Because I resolved to embrace the religious life.' " ' Who gave you such counsel ? Undoubtedly the monks. You will not confess it ; but they have been your counsellors. I am not mistaken.' " ' A monk, it is true, has enlightened me.' " ' Who is the man ? Barbarous ! seducer of a son ! torturer of the heart of a mother ! ' " ' He told me what was society, and what the re- ligious life.' " 'Does he know society, to inform you about it?' 12 134 PAUL AND JULIA. " ' Who knows society better than a man who has seen its bitters and its sweets ? Besides, he has lived therein a long while.' " ' He has exalted your imagination, abused your youth and inexperience ! The monster ! Alas ! could he know how much a son costs his mother, the want of him that her heart feels ! ' " ' All that he spoke to me was for my own in- terests.' " ' He has deceived you.' " ' On the contrary, he was moved but by charity.' " ' You say so because you do not know their hypoc- risy. He spoke to you with ignorance and fanaticism.' " ' No, my mother, it was with simplicity.' " ' As if the monks were not ignorant and fanatic ! ' " ' They have told me that what is termed in society ignorance and fanaticism is the truth.' " ' Declare, if you dare, that that seducer did not in- vite you to enter into religion.' " ' Had he done it, it would have been only by zeal, and for my eternal salvation.' " Then he did ? ' " ' my mother, why put me such a question ? All I may say is, I had long since resolved to enter into re- ligion.' " ' You had for a long while resolved to enter into religion ? And you do not blush to tell me this ! The monks must have wonderfully accustomed you to lie, that you can prevaricate with no shadow of shame.' " Still I speak the truth.' " ' This is beyond endurance : you rebel against me ! V son abuse to such a point his mother ! mock so PAUL AND JULIA. 135 her credulity ! You of course believe that I have for- gotten that you went to Naples only a few months ago?' " ' I had already proposed to enter the monastery before writing to you in Athens.' " ' And you did not tell me your intention ! Go, heartless son. You tear the bosom that bore you ; you give death to her who gave you life. God will not bless you.' " Saying so, my mother glanced at me with indigna- tion. She was about to leave hastily the parlor, when I sprang, and, my whole frame trembling, grasped her arms, and fell at her knees, saying, " ' My mother, do not curse a son who loves you. Have pity on him. Let me speak to you.' " ' O, hypocrisy ! ' exclaimed she. ' "Well, speak, and finish the work of death.' " ' I did not tell you that my intention was to en- ter into religion, because love had made me forget my resolution.' " ' Why then did you come again to your first de- sign ? ' " ' Because, having seen no more the woman whom I loved, I did believe to be rid of her love.' " ' Mistake.' " ' Moreover, because I thought that my entrance into religion was the will of God.' " ' Another mistake foolish fancy. Why then have you not asked my counsel ? Why have you en- tered the monastery without informing me about your determination ? Great God ! How little a son un- derstands the heart of his mother ! How little must his 136 PAUL -A.XD JULIA. love be for her, and why did you write to me evasive letters, and not inform me that you were in the con- vent ? ' " ' O, my mother ! ' " ' The monks are those who gave you such counsel ? Answer ! I understand it. They are the hypocrites.' *' ' My mother, perhaps you are mistaken.' " ' Why then did you enter the convent ? ' " ' Because I thought the religious life would make me happy here below, and would lead me more surely to heaven.' " ' What blindness ! In society you will be wealthy ; and using in a Christian manner the gifts of God, you will taste the purest enjoyments. In society you will serve your country ; and to serve one's country acquires' right to its gratitude, to the esteem of one's fellow- citizens. In society you will possess honors ; and hon- ors surround us with consideration. In society you will have a family and a mother ; and a family and a mother embellish life with great joys. In society you will have a wife. Ah, you cannot suspect what happiness the heart of a wife affords ! how delightful it is to be the support of her feebleness, her defender ; to accompany her in public ; to see her admired ; to be proud of her ; to possess her hand ; to study her looks, her smile ; to adore her beauty ; to rest on her heart ; to enlace one's life with hers ; to bury one's self in that sanctuary of the fireside, wherein the sole glance of divinity pen- etrates ; to have children who are one's own likeness, who, stammering, dearly unite one's name with that of their mother. O, what delight and charms ! And you believe that in the religious life you will be happier ? ' PAUL AXD JtTZIA. 137 " ' My mother, I know that society will afford me all the advantages which you enumerate. But what is the present time before eternity ? The religious life is the road which can lead me therein.' " ' As if your salvation was impossible in society ! ' " ' I think it is.' " ' My son, a false zeal blinds you ; a false fear mis- leads you. Will you not save yourself more easily in the bosom of your family than in this convent among ignorant fanatics and superstitious men ? They are so immoral that they daily are drunk, haunt houses x>f ill fame, and carry their licentiousness so far as to disturb families.' " ' My mother, I believe that many among them are virtuous.' " ' Say, rather, they are more artful and more hypo- critical in concealing their immorality.' " ' Why, mother, you exaggerate ; besides, God calls me to the religious life.' " ' Illusion. Has God descended from heaven to reveal it to you ? ' " ' Of course not ; but he spoke to me his will by the mouth of his ministers.' " ' Has God revealed it to them ? ' " ' He has said to his ministers, " He that heareth you heareth me ; he that despiseth you despiseth me." They have assured me that I should be damned re- maining in society ; that the religious life is the only way which can lead me to heaven. I ought to obey.' " ' You aver, at length, that the monks have influenced you. And you have given faith to such an imposture, to such sacrilegious profanation of the words of Jesus 12* 138 PAUL AXD JULIA. Christ ? And you have not seen that they intended to deceive you, enrich themselves with your patrimony, and make you their victim ? ' " ' It was not their intention ; moreover, I wish to save myself.' " ' My son, you do not know the world ; you do not suspect all the artfulness and perfidy concealed under the devout and hypocritical exterior of the monks. They have unworthily deceived you. Trust in the word of your mother.' " ' My mother, they have said to me that I must obey God rather than men and to obey them is to obey God.' " On my answer, my mother remained as annihilated. She concealed her. face with her hands. I saw her weep- ing. She suddenly raised her eyes to heaven, and ex- claimed, " ' Great God ! I felt anger against my son, and he deserves only commiseration ! " ' Dear Paul, I have nursed you ; I have watched day and night around your cradle ; I have taken care of your infancy ; I have consented, for your interests, to live far from you. God alone can appreciate all you have cost me all which I have suffered on account of your absence. Nobody, except God, desires more ardently than I to make you happy for the present time. Then trust in my word.' " ' I cannot. I should disobey God. From me it would be a crime.' " ' No, Paul ; God obliges a son to honor and obey his mother.' " ' Certainly ; but only when her will is not opposed to the will of the priests.' PAUL AXD JULIA. 139 " ' What a misfortune ! Those hypocrites have mis- led my son so far as to stifle in him the laws of God and of nature. " ' My dear Paul, since you are so obstinate that nothing can convince you, at least you will not be in- sensible to the tears of your mother.' " ' God alone knows what I suffer.' " ' Yield to filial tenderness.' " ' Alas ! I cannot.' " ' In the name of my love for you.' " ' O, my God ! ' " ' In the name of your cradle and infancy. In the name of the gratitude which a son owes to his mother. I am your mother, and entreat my son.' " ' My God, let me die ! ' " ' Look at me ! Do you feel my lips on your feet, and my tears which water them ? ' " ' O, my mother, I shall die ! ' " ' It is I who will die. My son, do you not see that if you resist, when I leave you I cannot live ? ' " ' O God ! why am I not allowed to cast away the teaching of the priests, and yield to my reason and heart ? ' " ' I entreat you.' " ' God ! O, help me ! ' " ' You have given up ; tell me that you have again become my son.' " ' I will pray to God for you.' " ' I do not want that. Are you about to cast off this hideous gown ? to leave forever your infamous seducers ? ' " ' Alas ! I must save myself.' HO PAUL AXD JULIA. " ' And I, in the name of God, in the name of your salvation, I command you to obey me.' " ' Alas ! I am bound to obey the priests rather than you.' " ' Well, Paul, I have lain prostrate at your feet ; I now quit you, carrying in my heart the poison which will give me death. I bless you, poor victim ; but I curse with all my maternal maledictions your seducers, the torturers of my son, the murderers of a mother, and this in the name of God ! What ! Stifle reason in the mind of my son ! kill his intelligence and heart ! and this in the name of God ! Monstrous profanators of the laws of nature, of Christ, and his gospel ! O, the day wherein I gave birth to my son was certainly an unhappy day ! and yet I rejoiced when he was born.' " Venerable chief, these were the last words which I heard from the mouth of my mother. I had fallen un- conscious on the pavement. They gave me restoratives, and when I became again conscious, I heard my mother weeping bitterly. She fell and a moment after they carried her out dying. O, horrible remembrance ! " And Paul buried himself in a mournful silence. PAUL AND JULIA. CHAPTER XXV. SUFFERINGS OF PAUL IN THE CONVENT. LETTER OF ATTORNEY. AUL resumed : " I renewed my efforts to stifle my feel- ings ; but it was useless. The world appeared to me a charming abode, and the religious life as dark as a dungeon. All that my mother had said to me of wealth, honors, pleasures, family, chiefly of love and hymen, enchanted and se- duced me. Apostleship, on the contrary, seemed to me a road strewed with thistles and thorns. "The monks, moved by my sufferings, lavished on me encouragements and prayers. They surrounded me with the most affectionate regards, and exhorted me to console and fortify myself by all the resources of their charity. They often addressed me thus : ' " He that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved." Cheer up ; after tempest God gives calmness ; the day follows the night ; to winter spring succeeds ; " a wo- man, when she is in travail, hath sorrow because her 142 PATTI, AND JULIA. hour is come, but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she rememhereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world;" all the saints who have been favored by God with extraordinary favors were nailed to the cross. Christ himself had to suffer before entering his glory. Cheer up, then, and have confidence. Persist in resisting and praying, and you will win the conqueror's ciown. You will, per- haps, even in the midst of the delight which will over- flow your soul, regretfully think of your days of trial, and exclaim, as St. Theresa did, " Either to die or to suffer ! " ' " I then redoubled my efforts to pray and resist ; but it was in vain. I fell into a deep sadness. Father Francis, whom, by peculiar favor, the superior had given me for confessor and director of my conscience, I say by peculiar favor, for I should have been bound by the rule to confess to the spiritual father, Father Francis, I say, tried all means to master my imagina- tion, settle my mind, and free my heart of its terres- trial feelings. He presented to me charming pictures of my future happiness in religion ; but I listened to him with indifference ; I remained as cold as marble. Hoping to succeed better, he discoursed with enthusi- asm on the sublime regions of spirituality to which God would raise my soul. " ' Mysticism,' he said, ' is the food of the Christian heroes, of the elect of God, of the predestinated. It is the mysterious ladder of Jacob, the feet whereof rested on earth, and the top reached the heavens. Medita- tion, of which I once talked with you, is its first step. From meditation, you will pass to the spiritual pur- TAT7I, AND JULIA. 143 gallon, namely, to the removal of your imperfections ; from the spiritual purgation to the aridity of the senses : from the aridity of the senses, to the substan- tial aridity of the soul ; from the substantial aridity of the soul, to the merry contemplation ; from the merry contemplation, to the contemplative rest, which is the recollection of our soul under the divine influ- ence ; from the contemplative rest to the acquired contemplation, which is the knowledge of truth by mere intuition ; and from the acquired contemplation to the pure contemplation. Then God alorte will act in you ; your soul will be actionless, and enriched with the gifts that he, with full hands, will gran* to you. You will pass from the pure contemplation to the affirmative contemplation, which consists in the intuition of created truths, as for instances, the felicity of the elect in paradise, the tortures of the reprobates in hell ; uncreated, as for instances, the divine omnipotence, justice, mercy, etc. From the affirmative contemplation you will pass to the negative contemplation, which is not the intuition of one par- ticular truth, but the obscure intuition of truths ; from the negative contemplation, to the supernatural recol- lection, which is the entire yielding of the soul to God acting on it ; from the supernatural recollection to the contemplation called rest, which consists in the insen- sibility of the senses effected by the divine love ; from the contemplation called rest, to the contemplation called shining cloud. Then your soul will be dazzled by the divine light, exactly as our eyes are dazzled by the beams of the sun. You will pass from this last degree of contemplation to the spiritual rapture. 144 PAUL AND When you reach, this step of the mystical ladder, your soul will be plunged in an amorous delirium, accompanied with chants, cries, abundant tears, dances, etc. God will afterwards grant to your soul the gift of union. Your soul will at first be actively united to God, namely, obedient in all things to the will of God, and afterwards passively united. Then it will neither see nor feel ; it will have the clear thought of the presence and union of God. Such a union lasts never more than half an hour. " ' There are two other sorts of union : the union of betrothal, and the consummated, or, in other words, the union of spiritual marriage. The first is divided into three sorts: 1. Of ecstasy. 2. Of rape. 3. Of rav- ishment of the spirit. In the union of ecstasy you will lose so entirely the use of the senses, that you will neither see nor hear ; that even you will not feel in- cisions made on your body. In the union of rape, God will ravish your soul so suddenly and violently, that your body itself shall be lifted up and made as light as a feather. In the union of ravishment of the spirit, your soul will be rid of the body, and will fly in the immensity of the heavens. In the consummated union, or spiritual marriage, there will be effusion of God into your soul, and of your soul into God, fusion of both into one, according to the whole tenor of the word marriage. This is the highest step of the mysti- cal ladder, of which that of Jacob was the image. This is its top, reaching heaven. " ' My son, what will you then have to love on earth ? What will you have more to do with the world ? You will be so far distant from it, what will you have tc PATJL -4.ND JULIA. 145 desire from it ? God himself will fill all the faculties of your being. How pale and insignificant will the love of a woman, of your_family, and of your mother be to you ! You will swim in a boundless ocean of love. The gifts of God will be showered on you. He will send to you visions. They sometimes will be external, viz., discernible with your eyes ; at other times imagi- native, viz., attainable only by your imagination; and at other times intellectual., viz,, within the reach of your intellect. God will delight to speak to you. When you will meditate on some religious truths, you. will hear in your soul a kind of an unknown voice ; this is what the mystical authors term successive lo- cution. You will likewise hear out of your soul an unknown voice ; you will hear it, either physically, or in your imagination, or in your intellect ; this locution is called formal, God will send to you, too, revela- tions, namely, will recall to you futurity, the mysteries of the faith, the state of consciences, the predestina- tion, the promotion to dignities and death of certain men, and so on. " ' I, now, young friend, ask you if a mortal can expect a greater happiness here below ? I ask you, rather, if, like the royal Psalmist, you will not find that your pilgrimage on earth is too long ? If, like St. Paul who had been carried up to the third heaven, you will not be anxious to see your body dissolve, taking its flight to paradise, and unite to Christ ? And do not think I have exaggerated, for all I have said to you is literally written in the Theology of St. Liguori.' " Isram, Father Francis explained to me, with en- thus'asm, the mystical doctrine of which I have given 13 146 PAUL AND JULIA. you a sketch ; but I listened to him with indifference, and, in spite of all his efforts, remained cold. His the- ory appeared to me entirely absurd, sacrilegious, and foolish. Absurd, because it supposes that our soul is a mere machine ; sacrilegious, because it binds God to a human method ; and foolish, because a sonl disor- ganized only, is capable of such dreams and feelings. When I said to him what I thought about it, he an- swered that I was guilty of a great sin sin against the Holy Ghost, because I blasphemed against his grace ; sin against God and his saints, for God, he said, had led them through that sublime way; sin of pride and disobedience, because I used my reason chiefly on a point so supernatural, and thereby disobeyed God and his church. " I then abstained from thinking and judging for myself, and prayed God to inspire me with submission and faith in the teaching of the monks. " Father Francis, however, hoped yet that through hia persevering efforts he could tame my reason, my con- science, and my heart. I had not been, since my en- trance into religion, bound to all the practices imposed by the rule upon the novices. My table was sumptu- ously served ; I was permitted to walk in the garden, to read, to write, to visit the monks in their rooms, chiefly to converse often with Father Francis, whom I considered as my friend and father. The reverend fa- ther superior informed that, far from forgetting society, my family, my mother, and the woman whom I loved, I incessantly thought of them, and felt their love in- creasing in my soul ; that, far from being attracted to the religious life and improving in the mystical science, PAUL AND JULIA. 147 I was quite disgusted, and anxious to leave the convent ; he bade Father Francis say to me, that if I should return into the world I should commit a great sin, and that my eternal salvation would certainly be at stake ; that all I had to do was to observe, as the other novices, all the points of the rule, and to believe and obey blindly, as they did. " Father Francis began then to explain to me my obligations. The innumerable practices of devotion to which I had to be bound seemed to me mostly absurd ; but when he told me that I had to deem myself more despisable than a hog, or a heap of manure ; to reveal to my superiors all my thoughts and feelings ; to hold friendship as sinful, to denounce my fellow-novices, to die to the love of my family, of my brothers, sisters, and mother ; not only not to think of them, but even to hate them ; that I had to obey so passively and so blindly that I should resemble a stick motionless in it- self, and borrowing its motion from the hand which carries it ; that I should think and feel as my superiors did, I shrieked with despair, and my reason rebelled. Such doctrine seemed to me opposed to the gospel. " I still, in spite of my reluctance, tried to observe carefully all the practices which were imposed upon my conscience ; but my body alone bent itself, my soul could not. So, I, it is true, knelt before my superiors, lay down on the threshold of the refectory, ate below the table, planted cabbages, the roots up, and watered them; turned upon one foot till I fell headlong on the ground ; and so on ; but all my soul rebelled, and cried to me, that such brutalizing practices were unworthy of a reasonable being, of man created in the 148 PAUL AND JULIA. likeness of God. The more Father Francis and th& superior of the convent inflicted chastisement upon me, and prayed for my conversion, the more I asked from God the forgiveness of my sins of pride, disobedience, and incredulity, the contrition of these crimes, and the change of ideas and feelings which I needed, so much the more my reluctancy increased. I felt wretched in the extreme. These incessant efforts, and my inter- nal struggle to stifle in my heart the love of my family, brother, sisters, and mother, chiefly of the woman whom I once intended to marry, exhausted, at length, the strength of my body and soul. I then, in my de- spair, resolved to leave secretly the convent. I was about to execute my resolution, when Father Francis, who suspected it, threatened me with the divine ven- geance, and with hell opening its waves of flames to bury me in their devouring depth. " Two years, long and weary, had passed, and I had been during that time the prey of those relentless anx- ieties and sufferings, whilst I had not received a sin- gle letter from my mother ; all I knew of her from the monks was that she still was living ; they forbade me to write to her, and even to think of her. As soon as the time required for my novitiate was over, Father Francis and the reverend father superior compelled me, in spite of my repugnance, to take the three vows of religion, namely, those of chastity, poverty, and obedi- ence. " I was then tied forever to the convent and religious life ; but my internal struggles, instead of diminishing, increased so much that I felt overwhelmed, and death became the most earnest longing of my soul. Having PAUL AXD JULIA. 149 read in the Theology of St. Liguori, that it was lau- dable to shorten one's life ten years, I ate, drank, and slept so little, in order to die, that I looked as a walk- ing spectre ; as, on the other hand, I yielded fully to my sorrow, ray melancholy changed into madness. Fa- ther Francis and the reverend father superior, noticing every day the failing of my health and the disorgani- zation of my brain, were alarmed, and resolved to send me out of the convent. One morning I knelt before a crucifix, entreating God to have pity on me, and to send me death. Father Francis came into my cell, and informed me that I should accompany him to the superior's closet, wherein he waited for me. " We went, and met with another monk, who ht Id a big pack of rolls, and was engaged in a serious con- versation with the superior. A moment after Father Francis presented me to them. I knelt before the superior, and kissed his hand, according to the rule of the convent. He bade me to rise, and said to me, with a paternal voice, " ' My son, since you listened to the calling of the Lord, and entered into religion, you have borne hard trials. However, cheer up ; those very trials arc the evident proof that your religious vocation is from God. We read in the Lives of the Saints, that all the favorites of God among his elect have been tried as you havo been and still are. You suffer in recollecting what you have left in the world, your friends, your family, your brothers, sisters, and mother. You cannot forget the woman who had criminally won your love. You struggle against your mind, whose pride does not bend to a blind belief ; and against your heart, the terrestri- 13* 150 PAUL AND JULIA. al affection whereof hinders you from celestial desires, and from obeying passively your superiors, the teach- ing, will, and orders whereof emanate from God. Not- withstanding, I repeat it, cheer up ; you will conquer. Your feet will shake off all this dust, that has been accumulated in your soul while in the world. Having noticed that your health is diminishing, Father Fran- cis and I have thought that travel would be profitable to you. Then, you are to accompany Father Igna- tius, whom I send to Russia. Yu will obey him as you would me. I have informed him about all the particulars of your past life, that he may direct you better.' " He meant the father who held rolls of paper, and was conversing with the superior when I entered the closet. " ' Reverend father superior,' I answered, ' send me wherever you will. To suffer and die here or else- where is to me indifferent.' " ' My son, why yield to such feelings ? They are sinful.' " ' Since I live only to sin and to be unhappy, can I think and feel differently ? Even can I hope to work out my eternal salvation ? Certainly not.' " ' My son, pray to God ardently ; I, too, and all the fathers of the convent will pray to him for you. You may be sure that we will obtain from his mercy and bounty that you be a happy and a holy monk ; that ypu work out your eternal salvation.' " I did not reply, but I shed abundant tears. The superior, having uttered to me a few words of consola- tion, told me that he had in his possession many letters TATJL A.XD JULIA. 151 which my mother had sent to me, but that he had kept them, and had not given me intelligence of their con- tents, lest he should kindle more ardently in my heart the love of my family and mother ; that she had come several times to Naples, ard solicited to see me in the convent, but without success ; that she, in her blind fury, had intrigued with the ministers of the king to obtain by their intervention that the doors of the convent be opened to her ; but that, thanks to God, all her endeavors had been vain. " As he spoke, my features changed ; a cold per- spiration covered my limbs ; I fell strengthless upon. a chair. " ' Your feelings are terrestrial and sinful,' he said; ' do not yield to them ; cheer up ; God will help you.' " Fathers Francis and Ignatius, having pity on me, spoke to me consoling words. " While the superior was writing a bill, his mind seemed quite absorbed in it. When he had written it, he came to me, and, with a serene face and a pater- nal tone, said, " ' My son, the voyage which you are about to un- dertake with Father Ignatius will be profitable to your health, and pleasing to you ; will calm the perplexities of your mind, and the tempest which disturbs your heart. It will settle your soul in your divine calling to the religious life. At your return you will study theology, and will be ordained a priest. Keep well in your mind that it is only in religion you can live happy, and work out the salvation of your soul. The circum- stances, or rather miracles, of your calling demonstrate that it is the will of God. Therefore let the world be 152 PAUL AND JULIA, dead to yon. My son, I have just now written a bill winch needs your signature. Come and sign/ " I went to his desk. " ' But, reverend father superior/ I asked, ' what is this hill ? T " ' It is useless for you to know what it is. Sign/ " I read a few lines, and shrieked ; the pen dropped from, my hand, and I remained thoughtful. " ' "What T my son,' he said ; ' what is the cause of your sadness ? ' " ' Should I sign such a bill ? ' " ' My son, I am astonished at your question. It is merely a letter of attorney, giving me, before the laws of your country, the right to administer your temporal interests ; to claim from your family your portion of paternal inheritance ; and, if your mother, brothers, sisters, etc., die, to claim your rights. I not the con- vent your home ? Am I not your father ? Are not the fathers of the convent your brothers and sisters r your family ? r " ' But can I, in conscience, deprive my family, es- pecially my mother, of the property which we hold from our forefathers ? ' " ' Certainly you are allowed it. Moreover, it is foi you an obligation of conscience. And do not call them any longer your family. Are carnal kindred your true kindred before the eyes of God ? Remember that Mel- chisedek had neither father nor mother ; that these memorable words are written in the gospel : " While- Jesus CKrist yet talked to the people,, behold, his mother and his brethren stood without, desiring to speak with, him. Then one said unto him, Behold, thy mother and PAUL AXD JULIA. 153 thy brethren stand without, desiring to speak with thee. But he answered and said unto him that told him, Who is my mother ? and who are my brethren ? And he stretched forth his hand towards his disciples, and said, Behold my mother and my brethren ! For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother." Then you must forget and deny your carnal kindred as being your family, and consider the fathers of the convent as your sole, true brothers, sisters, and mother, because they do the will of God the Father which is in heaven.' " ' Reverend father superior, I do not doubt you are right, for you speak in the name of God, and you are his lieutenant on earth. Notwithstanding, in spite of my will, all the power of my mind, and all the feelings of my heart, rebel at your reasoning. May I not love my family, particularly my mother ? I feel that while I have a soul I shall think and feel as I do now.' " ' My son, you are quite mistaken. God will change your mind and your heart. You will cast away the terrestrial man, and clothe yourself with the spiritual. Sign this bill.' " ' Reverend father superior, if you could know what my heart suffers, and the reluctance which I feel in my conscience, you would not oblige me to sign this letter of attorney. Of course I am not stopped by the con- sideration of my own temporal interests ; for, as to myself, I do not care for money, and, did I care for it, it would not be a matter of difference, my grave is already open ; I feel that my body is already falling in dissolution. But alas ! I foresee that the ghost of my father will follow me every where, charging me with, 154 PAUL AND JULIA. ingratitude and injustice. 1 foresee that my brothers and sisters will accurse me, and that my mother will die with sorrow. And is it not too much to have caused the death of my father by my sins, at least, Father Francis says so, without causing in addition the death of my mother ? ' " ' My son, as to your heart, you must stifle its ter- restrial feelings ; as to your conscience, it is wrong. Not only to sign this letter of attorney will not be a sinful deed" from you, but to sign it is for you a strict obligation. Moreover, I prescribe it to you in the name of the holy obedience which you have vowed to me, and in the name of God, as his lieutenant on earth.' " Isram, when the superior spoke these words, I felt as if it had been a sword piercing my heart. I took again the pen, and with a trembling hand wrote my name. " ' My son,' he said, ' God will reward your obedi- ence. Kneel, that I bless you ; for you shall embark to-day.' " Father Ignatius and I knelt, and he blessed us. " ' Alas ! my poor mother ! ' I whispered in my sor- row. " ' My son,' he said, ' pray God that you die to her love ; that you die to her love so entirely that you might kill her at my order which fate she deserves, because, opposing the vows of God upon you, she op- poses his holy church. Let God guide you ! ' " Father Ignatius and I bowed to him, and went out. PAUI. AND JULIA. CHAPTER XXVI. DEPARTURE OF PAUL FROJI NAPI ES. HE ENCOUN- TERS HIS MOTHER IN CONSTANTINOPLE. SCENE BETWEEN THEM AND FATHER IGNATIUS. ENERABLE chief, Father Ignatius and I embarked, a few hours after, to sail for Constantinople. We were accompa- nied to our ship by Father Francis. He gave me many coun- sels for my spiritual benefit; and when the anchor was weighed, he embraced me ten- derly, bade us farewell, and left us. This moment of separation was painful to me ; for, though I was un- happy, I felt grateful to him for his charity towards me, and his zeal for the salvation of my soul. " I thus left this land of Naples, which I had watered with so many tears ; where I perhaps left lonely in her tomb, without one flower, without one tear, without even one prayer, the woman who had loved me, and the love of whom I bore in my heart. O, bitter recol- lections ! " On these words Julia burst into tears and sighs. 15(5 FATTL AXD JULIA. Paul suspended a moment his relation, wiped the tears which flowed from his eyes, then continued : " Leaving the theatre of my misfortunes, the change of climate and a favorable voyage relieved my soul and strengthened my body. When from a far distance I saluted, perhaps for the last time, the land of my nativity, I had one recollection for my friends of in- fancy, one sigh for my family, and tears for my mother. Father Ignatius scolded me bitterly on account of my terrestrial and carnal feelings. ' Remember,' he said to me, ' that you ought to be dead to the land of your nativity, to your friends of the world, to your family, and to your mother. Remember the examples of the saints. Have you not read that St. Francis Xavier, on going to the Indies, passed near the castle of his fa- ther, and that in spite of all solicitations and entrea- ties, he refused to visit his relations and his mother, though knowing that, losing that opportunity, he would see them never more. He not only refused to visit them, but remained without one thought for the paternal castle, without one recollection for the friends of his infancy, without one sigh for his family, and without one tear for his mother. Imitate him.' " We had just arrived at Constantinople, when we Baw a ship which would cross and land at Anapa, throiigh which city we had to pass on our way to Russia. " We were about stepping into the vessel, when a woman, who hurried along the quay, met our view. She directed her steps towards us. O, surprise ! She was my mother. Alas ! what a change had taken place in her appearance ! Her hair had whitened; her fore- PAUL AND JULIA. 157 head had wrinkled ; her eyes were hollow ; her cheeks had become pale and meagre. She was but the shadow of what she once was. " * Cheer up,' the monk said to me; 'you already have triumphed over flesh and blood ; you can again be conqueror. I will pray to God, and watch over you.' " He drew back a few steps. My mother stepped before me. Her breathing was short and accelerated. All her features told the deepest affliction and indig- nation ; yet a kind of agreeable sensation seemed to rest over her violent feelings, she had not seen me for so long. I turned pale ; all my limbs were trembling ; I did not dare look at her. In the trouble of my mind I forgot even to bow to her. She rushed to my arms, and embraced me, saying, ' My dear Paul, at last I see you again. At last I hold in my arms my beloved son. But, alas ! what do I see ? You are only the shadow of my son. What have you become in the hands of those monsters ? Where are the beauty and health of my son ? ' " Fearing to yield to my filial feelings, I shrunk, but without uttering a single word. " My mother, suspecting, by my looks and my whole appearance, the agitation of my soul, said to me, " ' What, my son, the sight of your mother fright- ens you ? ' " I felt moved by surprise, sorrow, joy, filial tender- ness, and the fear of offending God, so that the words expired on my lips ; I could not answer. With an ardent aspiration, I entreated God to help me. 14 158 PAUL AND JULIA. " ' Be not afraid, my son,' she continued ; ' I feel against you neither hitterness nor anger ; I merely have pity on your blindness.' " I was tempted to rush into her arms ; but the thoughts of the wrath and vengeance of God stopped me. " ' My son,' she said, ' you are probably surprised at encountering me in this city.' " ' Yes, my mother,' I answered. " ' I came before you to Constantinople, because I knew that you would have passed by Athens with- out visiting me ; your conscience, fashioned by the monk, would have forbidden it to you.' " ' It is true, my mother.' " ' Well, my son, I forgive you easily ; for a son is so far from feeling as his mother feels ; particularly a son misled by seducers, and by anti-Christian doc- trines. " ' Please tell me ; you are undoubtedly aware and recollect, that for several years I have written to you many times every month : Avhy have you never honored me with an answer ? ' " Isram, fearing by justifying myself to stir up in my mother harsher feelings against the monks, I did not answer her question. " ' Paul, my dear son, answer.' " ' Pray, mother, spare me an answer.' " ' Spare you an answer ? If you have been bad- Learted so far as to resist the tears, entreaties, and sor- row of your mother, refusing her during several years one word of consolation, you ought not to be sensitive to the confession of your harshness.' PAUL A.XD JULIA. 159 " ' I love you too much to have given you this cause of sorrow.' " ' I suspected it. I could not believe that they had so soon made you capable of such cruelty. Why, then, have you not answered me ? ' " ' My mother, since you urge, I must aver that the monks did not give me intelligence, either of the con- tents of your letters or of their reception. They only said to me, that you were healthy, and resigned to my entrance into religion ; but, alas ! I see with my own eyes that they were wrongly informed.' " ' Say, rather, my dear Paul, that they were well informed by my letters, and that they deceived you. Do you see now that they are liars and hypocrites ? Do you understand that you have been and still are their victim these monsters ? A mother writes to her son, and they read and keep her letters, without informing him about it. And you, my son, are blind enough to believe that they are the lieutenants of God on earth ! As for me, I believe, with all men of good sense, that they are true demons with human face.' " ' O my mother, you sin against God in speaking against his priests.' " ' Dear son, how blind you are ! In what awful manner they have ensnared you! You wish that I consider as ministers of God men whose principles, teaching, and behavior are opposed to the laws of nature, to reason, and to the gospel ? I /annot. And tell me, did they not forbid you to write to me ? ' " ' Yes, of course ; but they had a good intention. It was for my temporal happiness, and the salvation of my soul.' 160 PAUL AND JULIA. " ' O, horror ! Can a son be happy not loving his mother ? Can he save his soul, not loving his family, his brothers, sisters, and mother, whom God bids him to love ? What immoral, unnatural, and anti-Christian doctrine ! Dear Paul, am I not right in saying so ? ' " ' My mother, should I listen to the voice of my reason, to the cry of my conscience, and to the feeling of my heart, I should certainly believe and feel as you do ; but the monks are ministers of God ; they have been empowered to overrule my reason, my conscience, and my heart, even all the faculties of my being ; I am bound to yield blindly and passively to their lead- ing-' *' ' My son, they have deceived you ; they do not hold from God this power, but from their pride, ignorance, fanaticism, egotism, and barbarity. Far from holding such power from God, the gospel condemns expressly their barbarous and sacrilegious profanation of reason, and of the laws of nature.' " ' Pray, my mother, do not speak against the monks ; for to deny that their power originates from God is a blasphemy against God himself.' "'My poor Paul, how heartily I compassionate you ! Alas ! this is what these wicked priests have taught you since they have seduced you. Have you completed your novitiate ? ' " ' Yes, my mother.' " ' Have you taken vows ? ' " ' Alas ! ' " ' Your hesitation makes me aware of what you 'have done.' " ' Yes, my mother, I have taken the three religious vows.' PATJL AST) JULIA. 161 " * What are these vows ? Explain to me the ob- ligations devolving upon you by these vows.' " ' By the vow of chastity, I am bound to observe celibacy all my life ; by that of poverty, I am for- bidden to possess any thing in this world ; and by that of obedience, I am obliged to think, believe, feel, and will, exclusively, as my superiors think, believe, feel, and will.' " ' And you are convinced that such vows are c: n- formable to the gospel, and pleasing to God ? And you do not feel all the faculties of your soul stirred up, protesting against and rejecting such fanatical, immoral, anti-human, and an ti- Christian principles ? And your conscience does not rebel against such absurd and monstrous bonds ? ' " ' My mother, I experience all this ; but the monks say to me, that it is a temptation of the devil ; that by consenting to these thoughts and feelings, were it once only, I should offend God, should sin against the Holy Ghost, which sin would be one of the greatest among all, one of those that are declared in the gospel to be irremissible.' " ' My son, believe the word of your mother. Your conscience is not tied by these vows. Besides, I infer from your own words, that you have not taken them voluntarily.' " ' It is true I felt a reluctancy so strong, that I hesitated. It was only when the fathers imposed it on me as an obligation of conscience, as a condition of eternal salvation, that I gave my consent.' 4; ' My son, would you believe that a man wno, while he feels a poniard upon his heart, should promise money 14* 162 PAUL AND JULIA. to his murderer, would be obliged, in conscience, to redeem his word ? ' " ' Certainly not ; because his will bearing violence, he was not free.' " ' Would you fear more the death of your body than the death of your soul by sin, and the loss of your eternal salvation ? ' " ' I Avould prefer to bear death a hundred times, rather than to sin, and to be eternally damned.' " ' Then, could the religious vows be laudable before God, you would be no more bound to hold your prom- ises than that man attacked by a murderer would be obliged to redeem his word ; for your will has borne violence, and you were not free in taking vows.' " ' Alas ! my mother, it is the cry of my reason, but the priests have the right to overrule my reason.' " ' Great God, what blindness ! What a misfor- tune for you, my dear Paul for your family, chiefly for your mother. How ignorant and credulous were both your father and I, when we sent you to schools kept by priests ! We were far from suspecting how deleterious was their teaching, which you have un- fortunately too well received ; which, with your years, have grown up in your soul in the same manner as the letters engraved on the bark of a young tree enlarge, when it grows up.' " Isram, when my mother uttered these words, she felt deeply moved, and abundant tears flowed from her eyes. I internally struggled against myself, lest I should offend God in yielding to my own emotion. A moment after, she said to me, as she was glancing at Father Ignatius, PAUL AND JULIA. 163 " ' Where do you go with this monk, who looks at you so eagerly ? ' " ' We go to Russia.' " ' Why have you not informed me of your voyage ? ' " ' Because I was forbidden it by my superiors ; and to disobey them would have been a violation of one of my vows, a great sin before God. Besides, I had very little time to write to you before I embarked. " ' I have been bidden, in the name of the holy obedi- ence which I have vowed to my superiors, to accom- pany the Father Ignatius to Russia. O my mother, let me go with him.' " ' I will not. A son ought to obey his mother.' " ' How happy I should be, if I was permitted to obey your maternal orders ! But I ought rather to obey the priests.' " ' God has not bound you to obey fanatical and hypocritical priests. He commands you to honor your father and mother ; therefore, in the name of God, in the name of the authority which he has given me over you, I bid you to follow me.' " Seeing the peril to which I was exposed, Father Ignatius had approached, and was listening to us. On the last words of my mother, he came to me, and said, " ' Brother Paul, remember that the Holy Ghost has said, "The parents of man are his enemies." ' " ' What ! my dear Paul,' replied my mother, ' I your enemy ! Have I not nursed you with my own breast ? Have I not spent days and nights around your cradle ? Have I not, to bring you up, lavished the years of my youth, my caresses, my boundless love ? 164 PAUL AND JULIA* Have I not consented to send you to Naples, and live far from you, separating, the bitterness of which mater- "nal hearts alone can appreciate, hoping that the time which you would spend in Italy would be profitable to you ? But alas ! how unhappily I was mistaken ! Have I not been from your birth to this day a martyr of my love to you ? After this, my son, could you believe that your mother is your enemy ? ' " ' What an impiety ! ' exclaimed Father Ignatius. ' A woman deny the words of God ? ' " ' I do not deny them,' replied my mother, ' but I reject your interpretation.' " ' This is another impiety,' he said. ' As if we were not commissioned by God to interpret the Scrip- tures ! As if we were not endowed with infallibility ! ' " ' Fie ! fie ! ' my mother responded. ' Spare me a conversation with you, for you should suspect what a mother ought to feel against monks who have seduced, blinded, misled, and deceived her son. I should fear to yield to my indignation. Paul, my son, God or- ders you to love your mother. Follow me.' " ' Brother Paul,' Father Ignatius said to me, ' re- member that God hath said, " Do not yield to flesh and blood." ' " ' What a profanation of the law of nature, and of the gospel ! ' exclaimed my mother, glancing at the monk with indignation. * Can a man, except he is as cruel- hearted as a tiger, trample so upon maternal love ? Poor Paul ! under the power of what monster hast thou fallen ? O, leave the monks and come with me ! ' " I supplicated God to forgive the sins of my mother j for in being disrespectful towards the monk, PAUL AND JULIA. 165 and in speaking against the ministers of God, she blas- phemed against him. " Father Ignatius then replied, " * We read in the gospel, " Another of the disciples [of Jesus] said unto him, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. But Jesus said unto him, Follow me ; and let the dead bury their dead." Jesus Christ calls your son to apostleship ; you, his mother, have no right to oppose his divine calling.' " My mother turned to me, and said, " ' My son, these were not the thoughts and the feel- ings of Jesus Christ. He said to his disciple, " Let the dead bury their dead ; " but did he intend to send him to the limits of the world before the death of his father ? did he forbid him to see him again, and to preserve for him the pure and noble love which the Creator put in the heart of a son for his father ? did he bind him to deny his family according to man ? did he impose upon him to disobey his father ? No ; Jesus Christ knew too well that it would have been to break the ties, inde- structible ties, sacred ties, which unite the son to his father. He lived thirty years with his mother ; conse- crated only three years to the dissemination of his gos- pel ; and more, he never went far from the country wherein his mother lived. O, a mother alone can ap- preciate the waves of joy which overflowed the soul from the tenderness of such a son ! On her prayer he did miracles. When, in the streets at Jerusalem, the people treated him with ignominy, and covered him with mud, like an earth worm, he willed that she should be present. When he climbed Golgotha, he willed that she should follow him. When he was 166 PAUL AND JULIA. nailed to the cross, he willed that she should stay at his feet, and gather his "blood. He gave her his last word, which is the masterpiece, and the most divine expression of filial love. As he was ahout to die, he willed not that she should be without a son : he said to her, pointing out St. John, the apostle whom he called his beloved friend, "Woman, behold thy son !" " ' And why all this ? Because he appreciated the love of a mother. He did know that the absence of her son digs up in her heart a bottomless gulf, which nothing can fill. " * My son, in imitation of Christ, love your mother, and love her as he loved his. Have pity on my des- olation. You know all that I already have endured for you ; all the despair in which I have been thrown by the death of your father ; all the anxiety which your brothers and sisters give to me. Since you are the eldest of the family, you owe yourself to thair affection and interests. You also owe yourself to my white hairs ; for, for a long time I have been on the declivity of life, and shall shortly go down to the grave. Leave then the monk, the monachal life, which is opposed to the love of nature, and to the gospel," and follow me.' " ' My mother, your words tear my heart. Why am I not permitted to yield to your maternal commands ? Alas ! I am forbidden it by the monks.' " ' They have no authority over you, and God says to you, " Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." I declare then to you, in the name of all my maternal rights, that you must leave the monks, and follow me.' PATTI, AND JULIA. 167 " Saying so, my mother cast on Father Ignatius such fiery looks that he did not reply. " ' My mother,' I said, ' let me at least accompany this monk to Russia. At our return, I will find you again in Constantinople.' " ' My son, I will not.' " ' My mother, I supplicate you. Perhaps in that time my conscience will permit me to go with you to Athens.' " ' But how much I shall fear never to see you again ! ' " ' My mother, be not anxious ; trust in my return.' " * Heaven ! how much I shall suffer ! ' " And we both wept bitterly. I kissed her ; suppli- cated her to accompany me with her prayers and wish- es ; she blessed me. " When I had drawn myself out of her arms, I heard her, sighing, exclaim, ' Will it be a last adieu 1 ' " Alas ! she was not mistaken. I was destined to suffer ; to pass endless days among savage tribes ; to live far from her ; far from the woman whom I love, without even the hope of becoming an apostle. O, unfortunate mother, with what bitterness I have cru- elly filled your soul ! When dying have you not cursed me ? And it is I who have killed you. Great God ! I must be a monster among the criminals, that my fate be so horrible ! " Paul suspended his recital ; there was much agita- tion in his soul. Then he resumed : " But why cause you, Isram and Julia, you, the blessed of heaven, to partake of the sorrows of an un- fortunate ? " 168 PAUL AND JULIA. " Dear Paul," said Isram and Julia to him, " why should we not partake of the bitterness of your recol- lections? We wish to know all the particulars of your misfortunes," He thanked them, and continued : " Father Ignatius and I had reached the wharf, when I saw my mother standing by me. She had followed our steps, " * My son,' she said, ' I will not that you go to Russia ; I foresee that I shall never see you again. Come with me,' And grasping my hand, she drew me back, " ' But, my mother,' I said, *' ' Come with me,' *' ' Alas 1 And my conscience ! I cannot.' " ' You may come with me. You must obey your mother.' " At that moment I felt in my soul a dark tempest. I exclaimed, in my despair, ' God send me death ! ' And I was glancing alternately to my mother and to the monk. " ' Brother Paul,' the monk said to me, ' your moth- er is not a Christian, but impious. Her feelings are terrestrial and carnal. She is to you a deadly viper. Leave her, and follow me.' " ' Monster ! ' exclaimed my mother. ' Paul, I or- der you, in the name of God, to obey, and to come with me.' " ' Brother Paul,' the monk replied, ' remember that Peter and the other apostles answered and said, (to the enemies of the gospel, and of Jesus Christ,) " We ought io obey God rather than men." God speaks unto you JPJLTTL AND JULIA. 169 by my mouth ; then leave your carnal mother, and come with me.' "'The monster! O my son! do you not under- stand that he profanes the gospel ? that he blasphemes against God, who has put in your heart filial love, and binds you to love and obey your mother ? Could you leave me to follow him ? Could you see me fall- ing and dying on the pavement ? Could you trample on my body ? ' " My strength was so much exhausted that I almost fainted. " ' Brother Paul,' the monk said, ' in the name of the holy obedience which you have vowed, I order you to leave your mother, and to come with me,' " As I hesitated, he drew me to him, " My mother grasped my arm, and, all trembling, kneeled supplicatingly to me, as the Father Ignatius drew me again to him, saying, ' Let us go where God calls us.' " We had walked a few steps, and embarked, when I saw my mother lying motionless on the pavement. A multitude of people gathered around her, and carried her I know not Avhere. All were looking at us, vocif- erating maledictions against us. " ' Let me go,' I asked Father Ignatius ; ' I want to see my mother, and it is my duty.' " But he refused, saying, ' It is written in the book of Proverbs, " There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death." The sight of your mother would be dangerous to your soul ; then you ought to avoid her presence, and stay here in safety.' 15 170 PAUL AND JULIA. " * She needs my care.' " ' Others than you can assist her.' " ' She perhaps is dying.' " ' Though she should die, it would not be astonish- ing. Has not God said he is jealous ? Nevertheless she opposed his vows upon you. That God punishes her with death and an endless reprobation, is all that her impiety and carnal feelings ought to let us expect for her. As to you, who have trampled under foot the carnal feelings of filial love, you will enjoy the bless- ings of God here below, and hereafter be eternally happy.' " Having pronounced these words, Paul ceased to speak ; his forehead darkened, his looks became fiery, and stood fixed on the ground. The change of his features told that painful recollections and bitter feelings agitated his soul. He was for a moment buried in deep and mournful silence, when suddenly folding his arms on his breast, he said with a trembling voice and the accent of despair, " What ! I am blessed by God and accursed by my mother ; to me what a dreadful enigma ; " and he fell again into his sad re- flections. Isram and Julia, seeing the agitation of his soul, entreated him, though expressing how much they were desirous to know his adventures, to defer to another time the continuation of his account ; but his mind was so abstracted that he had not paid attention to their words : he continued. PAUL AND JTJLIA. 171 CHAPTER XXVII. JATHEB IGNATIUS AND PAUL EMBARK TO CBOSS THE BLACK SEA. TEMPEST. SHIPWRECK. CIRCUM- STANCES THAT BROUGHT PAUL ON THE MOUN- TAINS. RECOGNIZANCE. E anchor was weighed, and I lost sight of Constantino- ple. It would be impossible to describe to you my grief. I will only say that I was insensible to all the words of consolation of the monk. I fell into a state of deep dejection. " Our voyage was at first prosperous. A favorable wind filled our sails : the weather was serene ; the azure sky cast its tints on the deep sea ; and the sun, reflecting his beams upon the waters, silvered the flow- ing undulations of waves. " In the evening the sun sank behind the billows in the midst of a golden cloud, which cast its glittering rays towards us. The stars gradually appeared in the vaulted sky; their light glimmered in the sea; we seemed to be sailing between two firmaments. These were the first days of our voyage. " One morning a belt of gold was traced in the east. 172 PAUL AND JULIA. S, The sun rose from the bosom of the waves bright and radiant, then slowly ascended above the horizon, deluging with light and heat the immense deep, and promising a fair day. But it had scarcely finished half its course, when a small cloud appeared in the sky ; a distant roaring was heard ; the depths of the sea became agitated ; the cloud increased, until it over- shadowed us as a pavilion ; in the centre were dull, gloomy spots ; its bronzed edges extended to the bot- tom of the horizon, and seemed to rest upon our masts. Rapid lightning rent the sides, which shook with the crash of the thunder ; a furious wind blew from the north, rolling cloud upon cloud, wave upon wave, and dashing heavily upon our ship, breaking our spars, carrying away our unfurled sails. The waves ran mountain high, the ship sinking into the depths again to remount. The billows lashed their foaming crests, and roaring dashed upward to the skies. Spouts of water discharged themselves upon our deck ; the rain fell in torrents ; the lightning in its fall embla- zoned the air, and whizzed on till extinguished in the waters. The night was horrible. " Among the passengers who had fled for shelter to the stern, some prostrated themselves, and offered up fervent prayers, invoking Mahomet ; others uttered shrieks of despair, called upon their wives and children, and pressed each other to their hearts. Some kept a melancholy silence, or, in plaintive voices, sighed their last adieus to home and absent friends. All, in accents of fury and hatred, poured curses upon us, be- cause, they said, we monks had provoked the Great PAUL AXD JTJLIA. 173 Spirit in causing the death of my mother. They wished to cast us into the sea. "I retired into a solitary cabin, prayed for those ignorant persons, and prepared myself for death with calmness and resignation. I was not only resigned, but happy at the thought of quitting a life which had been so bitter, and in which I foresaw I should have so much still to suffer in working out my salvation. " There yet remained a ray of hope ; the pilot was faithful at the helm ; the captain gave his orders, and the sailors executed skilful and difficult manoeuvres with intrepidity. In the morning the tempest seemed to lull ; the wind blew less violently ; the clouds dis- persed, and the heavens appeared. The cry was given, ' Land ! land ! ' " A few miles distant the Caucasus unrolled its dark forests, its mountains and their summits capped both in ice and snow. But, alas ! the day appeared only to show us our condition. The ship, beaten by the waves, was leaking at all points ; in vain all the merchandise was cast overboard to save her ; she con- tinued gradually to sink. Suddenly the shock of a great surge dislocated her frame. The sailors, worn out with their exertions, prostrated themselves upon the deck, recommended themselves to Mahomet, and silent and motionless abandoned themselves to their fate. "Then the shrieks of the passengers, -mingled with the roaring of the sea, presented a sad and terrible spectacle. Friend embraced friend ; sisters clasped brothers to their bosoms ; wives threw themselves into the arms of their husbands ; sons clung to the necks of their fathers ; daughters pressed their hearts to 15 174 PAUL AND JTJ1IA. those of th jir mothers ; all bidding an eternal adieu. I commended my soul to the blessed Virgin, recited the prayers for the dying, and loving nothing on earth that I was permitted to love, waited without regret the end of my trouble. It arrived. " The dismal ship floated with difficulty on her side. A great number of passengers rushed into the boats, and were swallowed up. Many, wishing to die together, entwined their arms, threw themselves into the sea, and disappeared. Some, to save themselves, seized whatever came within their grasp, and were drowned. Others lashed themselves to the rigging and cordage, hoping still longer to contend with death, and perhaps save themselves. " A wave carried away the monk, who did not face death without fear, but, pointing towards heaven, said, ' Alas ! how hypocritical and unhappy has been my life, and how dreadful is my death ! I cannot repeat confidently these words of the royal prophet : " I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord." ' I then bound myself to a plank, and committed myself to the mercy of the sea. During several hours I was tossed upon the waves, not know- ing where they would bear me. I raised my heart to God in fervent aspirations. I prayed to Mary, the morning star, who had already been helpful to me. My prayer was heard. Land was not far. I heard the surges lashing against the reef, and breaking against its steep shore. I believed my last moment had ar- rived ; but a wave threw me into a creek, and left me on the sand between two rocks. Exhausted by my exertions, I remained for a considerable time extended PAUL AND JULIA. 175 on the sand, without motion or strength. I then arose, addressed a prayer of thanksgiving to the mother of God, and walked along the beach to assist those whom the waves might have spared. I saw neither bodies nor fragments of the wreck. Weakened by hunger and fatigue, I entered the forest ; I listened and looked around me, but my search was vain; no habitation vyas near ; I heard not a sound of the human voice. I was in the country of the little Abazie. " I stopped at a brook whose waves ran murmuring by, and quenched my thirst ; ate some wild roots, re- moved the thorns from a small cave, and laid down to pass the night. It was near the close of day. The sea was more calm, the foaming waves broke with less fury against the shore ; the tempest was no longer heard, but in a distant, hollow sound. The clouds, which I had seen accumulated above me, were flying in confu- sion and scattering in the skies. All nature was silent, and seemed to invite me to that repose of which I was in great need ; but I could not rest, for my clothes were saturated with water, and I was benumbed with cold. I sought means to procure a fire, gathered some wood, and by rubbing two dry sticks together ignited them. When I had warmed myself, I laid down^ and overcome by fatigue I slept profoundly. " In the morning the scene was horrible. I ran to the beach, and saw scattered 'here and there planks, ropes, broken masts, and a great number of corpses ; among them, that of the monk. I buried him in the sand, erected a small cross over his grave, recited ' De Profundis ' for the repose of his soul, and quitted the place, praying him to be my guide to heaven. Still his 176 FATJL AND JULIA. last words had made upon me a sad impression. I walked slowly, with sad and painful reflections revolv- ing in my mind. All the horrors of my situation were pictured to me, and I said, ' I am here alone on a bar- barous, coast, without acquaintances, without friends or relatives, without means,, and without a shelter. Shall I remain in this solitude ? But where shall I find nourishment ? How shall I provide for my daily wants ? Can I live isolated from society, without exchanging a thought with a fellow-being ? Will not my soul be melted by the fire of solitude, as wax by the heat of the sun ? Shall I enter this savage tribe ? But will they receive me ? Shall I understand the language ? Have I authority and commission to preach the gospel to them ? Shall I return to Italy, and reenter Naples ? But that will open again the wounds which love and the world have inflicted on my soul. There I shall have to sustain the same conflicts. Shall I go to Russia and enter a monastery of my own faith ? But I am unknown ; and if I go shall I be received ? Shall I re- turn to Athens to my mother ? No, for I believe God has called me to a religious life/ " What vain reflections 1 What foolish thoughts ! Had I the intention of returning to Greece or Italy, could I go ? Do I know the road leading to Anapa ? Could I leap the ravines and torrents, climb the rocks, swim the rivers, sleep on the ground, defend myself from the fury of wild beasts, find my way through im- penetrable forests ? and where can I obtain food ? Should I be able to reach Anapa, I have no means ; would the Mahometans or Russians take me in upon charity ? These thoughts drove me to despair. I PAUL AND JULIA. 177 began to envy the fate of the monk. I had in perspec- tive either long suffering or a speedy death, which I could find in suicide. From the first I recoiled with terror ; at the second I shuddered with horror. " Thus absorbed I walked unconsciously, when sud- denly raising my eyes, I saw near me the place where I had been (at least I thought so) saved from the waves by the blessed Virgin. I knelt, and prayed her to ob- tain from her Son the light and strength of which I was in need. I felt my prayer was heard ; my soul was filled with confidence and courage. I arose, no longer doubting that if God sent me such severe trials, it was the better to prepare me for a religious life and apostle- ship. *' I directed my steps along the sea shore, and after several hours' walk, I reached high hills which rose to the foot of a mountain. I pursued for some time their intricate paths, and at length discovered at the entrance of a wood some lonely huts, formed of the green branches of trees woven together ; they were the hab- itations of several families of the Little Abazie. Their language being unknown to me, I made them com- prehend by signs that I had been shipwrecked, and they shared with me their hospitality. When they returned to the mountains, I accompanied them, and took charge of their flocks. " For nearly a year I lived in the forests with men of uncivilized manners, dissolute morals, plundering and cruel habits. All my consolation was prayer, the hope of returning to religion, and the thought that I might expiate the errors of my youth. God alone has known the privations to which I was subjected ; the 178 PAUL AND JULIA. humiliations I had to bear ; all the bitterness in which I was daily steeped ; and above all, what I suffered from my loneliness, and the interior struggles which con- stantly arose in my soul. At last a favorable oppor- tunity offered for me to go to Anapa. Relying upon Providence for the continuation of my voyage, I pre- pared to avail myself of it, when unexpectedly the Lesguis fell upon the Abazie, entered the valley, and made me prisoner. Such, venerable chief, were the events which threw me with the Abazes, placed me in the hands of the Lesguis, and brought me into your country." During the recital of Paul, the face of Julia ex- pressed various emotions ; her eyes dilated, her coun- tenance glowed, her bosom heaved, her searching glances seemed to penetrate into the depths of Paul's soul, and rekindle some ardent love which had been consuming her heart. Isram, on the contrary, had listened with calm attention, serious but affectionate interest, and restrained compassion. Large tears had more than once moistened his eyes. When Paul ceased speaking, Isram said to him, " Young Greek, you have suffered much. Your life, up to this time, has been very unhappy. You have been a victim to the ardor and impetuosity of youth. You have been the sport of your imagination, of the righteousness of your mind, and of the generosity of your heart. The prejudices of your education and your reason, the teaching of the priests and the gospel, your conscience and the fear of hell, filial piety and a false devotion towards God, a laudable love and the monachal fanaticism, have in turn contended with your PAUL AND JULIA. 179 soul. Listening to all those voicss, to each you have offered sacrifice. Which will be victorious, to which you will offer yourself a holocaust, I know not. As to your Catholic belief, I have nothing to 'say, except I wish that it could be profitable to you and to the Chris- tians whom you will evangelize." Isram ceased, and seemed absorbed by painful reflections. Paul re- proached himself for having afflicted the affectionate old man in having recounted the history of his mis- fortunes, and remained for some time silent. Besides, he was exhausted by fatigue, and deeply affected by these painful recollections. Julia forgot her own sadness, and addressed him those words of consolation which only a woman can say, to revive the serenity of the soul. But raising his eyes in a transport of sadness, regret, and despair, ho exclaimed, " I console myself ! Never, should I live as long as the world, the struggles with which my soul contends will never end. Love, my mother, and apos- tleship ! Love ! O, it would be necessary to pluck out my memory and my heart to erase the remembrance of her I love ! " Paul paused a moment, then in a trans- port of frenzy he opened his bosom, and kissed convul- sively a golden heart, and in a trembling voice said, " I love her ! I shall ever love her ! I shall live and die with her image in my memory, and her love in my heart." At seeing the heart Julia was surprised. She hur- riedly opened it, and recognized her own hair. " I again see my best beloved ! " she exclaimed, and feinted. 180 FATJL JULIA. CHAPTER XXVIII. her joy; transports JULIA SEEKING SOLITUDE. INTEBNAL STEUGGLE8 OF PAUL. O see Paul, whom she had not expected to see again, had thrown Julia into the d elirium of happiness . All her wishes were crowned; she passed to a new life. Yet she durst not yield to she was reserved in her her felicity was mingled with bitterness. She noticed that Paul was becoming thoughtful and melancholy. He avoided her pres- ence, and did not dare look at her ; he seemed to seek solitary spots, and spoke not of love. The struggle was renewed in his soul. One day she was walking under the branches of She passed through the clusters which surrounded the cottage, entered a path bordered with a bush of aubepine, and, distracted, picked from it some flowers. She disappeared a moment behind that cur- tain shining with whiteness ; she appeared again, and winded with a murmuring water, bordered with willow trees, which shaded her with their olivdtre foliage. Her visage was veiled. She stepped slowly; then apple trees. PAUL AND JULIA. 181 stopped, and, thoughtful, pressed in her white hanas young rosebuds, resumed again her walk, caressed with her flowing robe the flowers which carpeted the meadow, and with her light foot hardly bent in the fields the leaves of vervain. She was going to dream and weep in solitude. Suddenly she saw Paul, who, seated on the bank of a torrent, seemed to be buried in a profound revery. She silently approached, and heard him saying, " My God, when will thy wrath be ap- peased ? I must be a great criminal, that thy vengeance cleaves to me under all the heavens ; that thou con- demnest me to a miserable existence ; that thou ex- posest me to all combats, and permittest me to fall in my conflicts ; that I am a prey to remorse. To obey thy priests, I have from infancy trampled upon my reason, and stifled in my heart the most generous and noblest feelings. I have denied my family, my broth- ers and sisters, my mother, to whom, probably, I have given death. I have struggled at every hour of the day against the love of a woman whom I adore. 1 have buried myself in a convent. I have crossed the seas, been shipwrecked, and lived among savage colonies. I have been prisoner and slave ; and now, on these moun- tains, thou callest me to sustain dreadful conflicts, to meet the being whom my heart loves, though I am for- bidden it by thy priests. I have to this day resisted, but I feel that I can no longer endure the trial. O my Lord, since my life is a tissue of sufferings, since the prolongation of my days is but the prolongation of the chain of my crimes, I pray thee make me die. For me there is no hope in this world. I shall be the accursed Cain, whom thy priest spoke of to me. I 16 182 PAUL AND JULIA. stall wander in all countries without finding rest ; and when my long wandering shall end, the doors of hell will open, that I may partake with the reprobates their endless punishments. O, the day of my nativity was indeed an unhappy day ! " Paul ceased to speak, concealed his visage in his hands, and fell again into a deep revery. Julia heard him sigh, but durst not appear to him. Suddenly he raised his eyes to heaven, and said, " My Qod, deliverest thou me from despair ? Send- est thou me the sweet thoughts and pleasures which pervade my soul? Thou perhaps hast not accursed me. I perhaps am only a victim of the prejudices with which the priests have imbued me from my infancy. If thou hast given me the flambeau of reason, it is in order that I walk by its light. If thou hast given me a conscience, it is that I rule my deeds according to the knowledge which I have of thy will, and not accord- ing to the caprices of men. If thou hast given me a heart, it is that I love my fellow-beings, my family, my brothers, sisters, and mother. If love has root so deep in my soul, it is thou who hast planted it therein. O if it was so, how complete would be my happiness ! Ah, dear Julia, what happy days I should live with you on these mountains ! The years and the sufferings having cemented our love, it would be eternal. Having given me life and liberty, you would complete your gift in making me happy. Our souls would have but one thought ; our hearts would beat but with one feel- ing. Together, the same golden chain riveted in our hearts, we would walk the pilgrimage of life ; and if some cloud should darken jur voyage, it would dis- PAUL AND JULIA. 183 appear under your looks. What should I not forget in your arms ! Yes, I adopt the mountain for my country. I open my heart. Let love, that I tried to stifle there- in, take a more rapid flight. Julia, my best beloved, I worship thee, and forever." "And Julia loves you," a sweet and trembling voice answered. It was a voice known and dear to him. Paul rose with a sudden start, and saw Julia, who stood by him, pale, her eyes bathed in tears, and mod- estly inclined to the earth. Astonishment, joy, love, and embarrassment, appeared on his face. He seized in his burning hand the cold hand of Julia ; and they hurried from the spot, not daring to exchange one glance or a single word. " Dear Julia," asked Paul, after a moment, " how has it happened that you have come to this lonesome spot :" " I wanted solitude," she answered. "But Isram " " I had to spare him the sight of my sadness." " Please tell me the cause of your sorrow." Julia cast down her eyes, and did not answer. " Excuse me, Julia," said Paul ; " my question was indiscreet." " Paul," she answered, " you ought to suspect the cause of my affliction." " I understand your answer. What ! you had for me no other feelings than those of contempt ? You were benevolent enough to accept a love that I had sworn to you ; you have exposed your honor and safety to give me life and freedom ; and for aL gratitude and 164 PA.UX AND JUI.IA. reward of these inappreciable gifts, I struggled against myself to rid my heart of your love ; I intended to fly these mountains, and forsake you." " Paul, I did not despise you. Witnessing the trouble of your soul, I had for you but a feeling of compassion and sorrow. I comprehended all you had to suffer struggling against religious prejudices." " You, then, have forgiven me." " Paul, I have not to forgive yo'u, for you have not injured me. You have, on the contrary, to pardon me for having been, against my will, it is true, one of the causes of your sufferings. I have why not aver it ? endured unspeakable ills ; but you have just now blotted out in my soul even the recollection of all I have suffered on account of you." " My God, I bless thce. Thou hast led me to these mountains, that I may still live happy days. Dear Julia, can you tell me the circumstances that brought you to Naples, and recalled you so soon and so sud- denly to Caucasus ? " " My grandfather had sent me to that city to receive a European education. I had lived three years in that place, when we met in a church, whereto I ac- companied a Neapolitan lady " " Ah ! for me what delightful and bitter recollec- tion ! " Julia sighed profoundly, then added, " God alone witnessed all that I have suffered. Sorrow has changed my body and soul so much that you have not recog- nized me on these mountains." " The whole of your being that attracted my soul inspired in me suspicions ; but how could I have PAUL AXD JULIA. 185 presumed that so distant a country had been your cradle ? Besides, many years have passed away since we saw each other ; and we suffered so much in body and soul that we co ild not know each other." " Alas ! " " O, what a dreadful combat it was in my soul ! To my eyes you were so adorable, and the fear of offend- ing God by destroying his priests preyed so powerfully on my mind ! " " Tb.Q account of your adventures, or rather mis- fortunes, has caused me to comprehend how much religious prejudices have tortured your soul. But if the sparkling flame is not the most ardent fire, in mat- ter of heart the love that can be painted is not the most violent." " Dear Julia, at your last words I feel that my soul is overflowing with happiness ; but tell me, why did you not, while in Naples, make me aware of your dwelling and departure ? " " Because the friend of my family, who had the care of me in Naples, opposed our love ; because, my grand- father recalling me suddenly to Caucasus, I had no time to give you intelligence of my departure. All I was able to do was to send you a token." " Plow many soft, and withal bitter, thoughts assail my memory ! What feelings you awake in my heart ! But, tell me, how has it happened that you have not accepted an alliance on these mountains ? " " Because, when a woman loves, it is forever." " O Julia, can I but worship you ? I would con- sent to endure again for you the horrible martyrdom 16* 186 PAUL AND JULIA. which I have already suffered. In refusing a husband you have probably afflicted Isram and your mother ; have you not ? " " Certainly. But for me it was a duty, and for my heart a want. I unveiled to them my secret only when my dying mother entreated me eagerly to accept an alliance. Both respected my feelings, and Isram never more spoke to me of marriage." " Dear Julia, on this mountain, near you, what else can I desire from heaven ? " A half glance, a veiled smile, and a celestial ani- mation in her features, were the only answers of Julia. Paul was raptured^to that inexpressible delirium of love that has been felt by those only whose lips have not exhausted the inebriating cup of the possession of a worshipped woman. They said no more, but arose and walked homewards. Their lips were mute, but there was in their looks a burning eloquence sweet and indescribable mysteries enacted in their souls. They had soon, without bsing conscious of it, entered the villages, crossed the orchards, and a moment after reached the paternal home. PAUL AND JULIA. 187 CHAPTER XXIX. HAPPINESS OF THE INHABITANTS OF THE VALLEY OF THE OSSETES. HILST Paul was in the valley, he witnessed every day the veneration of the Ossetes for Isram, and the brotherly feel- ing which reigned in the tribe. Emulation and good manners having honored labor there, fortune was almost equal. Lordship, aristocracy, and privileged social station being excluded, the most perfect union existed among families. The people limiting their am- bition to the cultivation of their fields, all were in a modest competency. Sobri- ety made the people strong and vigorous. Humane and hospitable in peace, they were valiant and terrible in war. A small number only died with diseases. They preserved even in their old age the verdure of youth, a healthy and vigorous mind. Woman, who was reinstated there, and considered as the companion that God has given man, made it her happiness to make her companion happy. Children cherished their par- ents, who brought them up not with pride and severity, but with love. If any contention sprang up among 188 PAUL AXD JULIA. families, it was submitted to Isram, whose justice and virtue caused him to be regarded as an oracle. He divided heritages, stipulated the contracts, regulated the interests. He was the guide of the ignorant, the support of the feeble, the defence of the widow, the father of the orphan ; he had consolation for all the distressed. Sometimes he went into the cottages to fortify the old men against the terrors of death ; to visit the patient, and encourage them to support their sufferings ; to represent to the spouses the necessity of a close union ; and to teach the young respect, docility, and love of labor ; to engage them to practise virtue, not in rep- resenting it as severe, but in painting its charms with agreeable colors. At other times he went into the fields, and had pleasure in assisting at the merry sports of the shepherds, who, touched with his affability, were more disposed to listen to and practise his lessons. He exhorted the young men to accustom themselves to labor, and to stand fatigue. He approached the plough- men who raised up their furrows, or who, spade in hand, painfully dug up the earth, and always found some words which sustained their courage. To keep their minds in agreeable thoughts, he spoke to them of prairies tufted and adorned with flowers ; of golden harvests ; of clusters of grapes which the knife of the vintager detached from their branches to press the empurpled wine ; of the trees of the orchards burdened with fruits, and of granaries abounding with produce of all kinds. He conversed with them, also, about the joy they would feel in the bosom of their families, when, in the time of repose, after returning PAUL AND JULIA. 189 from a distant chase, they would find abundance around the fireside. Paul, pleased with such a delightful spectacle, ac- companied Isram in all his visits to the trihe. One day, returning to the fireside, he said to him these words : " Venerable chief, the inhabitants of this val- loy are kind and affectionate, sober, and friends of labor. Children are submissive to their parents. Young men respect old age, are laborious and modest. All families live in harmony, and seem to form a single family. Peaceable in the fields, your people are re- doubtable warriors in combat. Without any ambition for enlarging their country, they would die to a single one in defence of their firesides. They have not mosques, and they love prayer. They are disciples of the Koran, and they regard each other as brothers. To me it is most astonishing that, surrounded with barba- rous people, who are without faith, without morals, and without religion ; who are enemies of labor, quar- relsome, destructive, and sanguinary ; it is, I say, as- tonishing that they have been able to sustain them- selves against the contagion, to retreat from the evil, not yielding to the corruption of their neighbors ; and even to resemble so little the rest of the tribe of the Ossetes. Let me ask you how it is that you are among them, and that, being not a child of the tribe, they have chosen you for their chief and their father." " Young Greek," the old man answered, " as now the last rays of the sun gild the horizon, let us go home and rejoin Julia. To-morrow I will satisfy your desire." 190 AND JULIA. CHAPTER XXX. I8HAM COMMENCES TO RELATE TO PAUL THE HIS- TOKY OF HIS LIFE. PLACE OF HIS NATIVITY. HIS TRAVELS THKOtTGH EUKOPE. HIS INQUIRIES ABOUT CHRISTIANITY. HIS INVESTIGATIONS ON TRUTH. HE RENOUNCES HIS RELIGION. SRAM was faithful to the promise which he had made to Paul. He conducted him to a retired place, and spoke to him thus : " I was born in Constan- tinople. My father was a wealthy effendi ; my moth- er died a few months after m\A I was born. In the days of my childhood my father confided to my young mem- ory the first chapters of the \ Koran, explained them to me, and soon after taught me the whole of it. In nourishing my mind and my heart with the doctrine of Mahomet, he impressed on my mind a sovereign dislike for the gospel, and I vowed in my heart a profound hatred against the Chris- tians. Esteemed because he was in honor, and feared because of his power, of his absolute will, and the fa- PAUL AND JULIA. 191 naticism of his zeal, he was the ruler of believers, who hated him; the tyrant of subalterns, who suffered in silence ; and the terror of his slaves. He was accursed by all, and he often remarked to me, ' There are two classes of men, one who command, the other who obey. The one oppress, the other bear oppression. As those who obey are more numerous than those who command and oppress, it is necessary that the latter be despotic. My son, you are destined to command and oppress ; then do not forget my teaching, and remember my examples.' " Such a doctrine had no echo in my mind, and still less in my heart. I admitted a social hierarchy, but I could not believe, and above all comprehend, that an intelligent creature, made by the hand of God, should be the fatal victim of the arbitrary will of his fellow- beings. I saw with horror the tyranny and cruelty of my father ; the bad treatment and tortures with which he delighted his eyes. However, from fear of his anger and his vengeance, I dissembled my thoughts and my sentiments. " One day, I discovered in his library a New Testa- ment ; I read it with avidity. What was my surprise and delight, when I found in it a sublime doctrine which ravished my mind, and a code of morals which filled my heart ; when I found all the wants of my being and of the human family in these divine words, 4 Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind ; this is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. lt)2 PAUL AND JULIA. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.' " Then I changed from the hlasphemy of the person oF Jesus Christ to the admiration of his life and his heroic death ; from the dislike of his doctrine to en- thusiasm and faith ; from hatred against the Christians to the desire of knowing them, and making myself one of their fellow-disciples. The Bible and the gospel be- came my usual and favorite reading. "As I grew in age, these ideas and desires grew stronger in my soul ; I earnestly wished to see if the grain of mustard seed, the word of Christ, had become a great tree, which is to shelter under its foliage, in after generations, the entire human race ; if already it had yielded happy fruits to the people whom it sheltered. I then requested my father to allow me to undertake a long voyage, to which project he will- ingly consented, because he was wealthy, and he hoped that the instruction that I might acquire would be a recommendation when I should return to my country. " I spent many years travelling over the kingdoms, empires, and republics of the civilized world ; visited their cities and their capitals ; studied the manners of their people, their monuments, arts, commercial relations, and their progress in science. I searched into their archives, and examined the books of their voluminous libraries. I informed myself, above all, with their philosophical opinions, their religious faiths ; with their rites and ceremonies. For that purpose, I listened to the lessons of the most erudite professors ; conversed with the most distinguished members of the scientific societies and universities. I went to churches, PA.UL A.ND JULIA.. 193 and heard the most celebrated ministers ; had frequent conferences with the priests and preachers of eminent knowledge, and discussed often with divines and doc- tors. But my astonishment was extreme when I saw that, among Christians, some believed not the gospel ; the greatest number did not comprehend it; and scarcely any practised it. I was distressed, above all, when I heard Christians who believed not the gospel dispute, and say, " ' Truth exists,' *' ' We may neither deny nor affirm,' * ' ' There is a God Creator.' f " There is no God Creator.' J " ' There is only one God. The supreme and infinite power is indivisible,' " ' There are many Gods, and their number is in- definite. All recognize one master, and each of them has a special power.' " ' God is eternal. He has created the world in time.' " ' The world is a great whole, which great whole is uncreated ; it is eternal. This great whole is God, and God is this great whole.' \\ " ' There is a Providence. He is vigilant, and governor of the universe,' " ' Chance directs all. Destiny rules all. Too many evils overflow the world for a divine Providence to rule it.' ^[ " ' The breath which animates is a spiritual sub- The Sceptics. f The Theists. J The Atheists. The Polytheists. || The Pantheists, II The Fatalists. 17 194 PATJI, AND JULIA. stance, impalpable to matter. It is indestructible and immortal by its nature.' * " ' The breath which animates is, it is true, a mat- ter intangible by the senses, but only because the par- ticles which compose it are purer and more subtile than the common material beings. It is destructible and mortal, because it is a compound being ; and a com- pound being is subject to decomposition.'! " ' An animal has life and sensation. It is then a mere machine, which these two springs move fatally. As to man, he has, besides life and sensation, intelli- gence, sentiment, and will. He thinks, then, and deter- mines freely.' J " ' Man has neither intelligence, sentiment, nor will. His sensations are merely higher than those of an an- imal ; but they are of the same nature.' " ' From created beings to God there is a connection. From man to God there is, besides this connection, a bond of duty, because man, and man alone, has liberty, which generates duty.' || " ' From created beings to God there is an affinity of existence ; it is all. A blade of grass is unworthy that we preside over its destiny. From man to God, the same affinity exists, but not a bond of duty. Could God, the infinitely great, the infinitely perfect, make a contract with the infinitely small, and the in- finitely imperfect ? ' ^| " ' From man to God there is a bond of duty. The * The Spiritualists. f The Materialists. J The partizans of free arbitration. The Sensualists, or opponents of free arbitration. || The believers of merit and demerit. II The Deists. PATTI, AND JULIA. 195 expression of duty is religion. Religion is the con- formity of our acts with nature. There is, then, a natural religion. Since two substances compose our being, viz., the one invisible, the other visible, there are then two kinds of worship in the natural religion, one invisible, the other visible, viz. : one internal, that of our reason, which recognizes the sovereign domain of God, our dependence on him, submission to the duties whose knowledge he has given us ; the other external, the worship of the visible substance in us that of our bodies.'* " ' The visible part in us has not liberty, conse- quently is not bound by duty. Natural religion sup- poses, then, only an invisible, an internal worship that of our reason. 'f " ' Duty supposes sanction. There is, then, a rec- ompense for its observance ; punishment for its viola- tion. The recompense of a faithful discharge of duty, and the punishment due to transgression, can be but insufficient on earth. There is, then, a future life, where the dispensation is made.' " ' The satisfaction which is experienced by the practice of virtue, and the joy which follows a dis- charge of duty, is a sufficient reward. The bitterness with which vice fills the soul, And the remorse which gnaws the transgressor of duty, is a sufficient punish- ment. There is, then, no future life, during which may be dispensed the reward and the punishment due to the discharge and violation of duty.' " ' Fidelity to duty, because it honors God ; viola- * The believers of a natural religion, f The opponents of public worship. PAUL AND JULIA. tion of it, because it offends him, clothe the character of infinity. Reward and punishment ought then to have an infinity, which the soul may be susceptible to suffer. Reward and punishment are then endless.' " Young Greek, I would not finish this nomencla- ture, if I wished to expose to you, even succinctly, the divers theological faiths and morals which I remarked in that class of Christians who do not admit the gos- pel, and who, however, by I know not what incompre- hensible folly, practise the ceremonies of Christianity, chiefly those instituted by the Romish priests. As I was studying these doctrines and myriads of others, my first thought was to believe that I was in error, and that I ought to rest easy in the arms of scepticism ; but a secret voice whispered in me, that the star of Christianity was not false ; that scepticism was a doc- trine of death ; that truth was not a chimera ; and that even truths existed, the knowledge of which was of the highest importance to man, namely : Does one God eternal exist ? If he exists, are there connections from man to him ? If there are, what are they 1 Has God established connections between man and his fellow- men 1 If he has established any, what are they 1 " I then asked myself, Where can I find the solu- tion of these vital questions ? Will it be in the word and the works of men, or in nature, submitted to the test of my reason ? Then I commenced to inquire after it in the word and works of men. First, I put to myself this question : Is it in history ? " Behold two men who write the life of an individ- ual, of a people, or of humanity. The one affirms, the other denies ; the one praises, the other censures ; the PA.TJL AXD JULIA. 197 one approves, the other condemns ; the one avows, the other keeps silence ; the one puts forth proofs, the other rejects them ; the one conceals the sources whence he has drawn his documents, the other wishes us to believe his word without any further examina- tion. What is, then, unhappily for truth, the compass of the historian ? Integrity and good faith ? No ; most generally prejudice, whence flow his opinions, his political, social, or religious faith, his material inter- ests, his ambitious views, the benefit of his religion or of his country. " Are there not laudable exceptions ? Yes, undoubt- edly, a friend of humanity delights himself in believ- ing there are. But how can we discriminate the tares from the wheat ? How distinguish the conscientious man from the man who obeys an influence ? The writer says to himself, ' In attempting to write history, I accomplish a great and sacred duty, because it ema- nates from the vital principle of human fraternity. Humanity has a triple manifestation : manifestation in the past, manifestation in the present, and manifesta- tion in the future. All individual acts form by their succession the great river of general acts, which rolls and confounds its water in the immense ocean of hu- man activity. Channel of transmission, I ought not to hold captive the waters of truth and of facts ; I ought to stand by and let them run as they are, wheth- er clear or muddy. Mandatory of present humanity to enlighten that of the future, I ought not to put in its hands a dubious light ; but as the mission of instruc- tion is sublime, so also the task is "great and the re- sponsibility solemn. I then owe myself to truth.' And 17* 198 PAUI, ANJ) JULIA. he writes. But scarcely has he traced a line when a painful reflection oppresses his soul ; his hand hecomes cold, and the pen drops from his fingers. He says to himself, ' I write, hut individuality triumphs ; egotism has the sway. All the evils which overflow humanity flow from egotistic power ; it bears in its flanks all the errors and all the crimes which I, faithfully echoing, shall transmit to posterity. I am like a broken in- strument, the vibrating strings of which emit harsh sounds, stifling at their birth all the fruits of my re- searches and observations.' Then this man startles ; and the despot, who stares at him because he fears his talent and the revelation of shameful truths, at first menaces and scowls, then flatters and lulls him in these enervating prospects : ' You have senses ; I will give them delight. Fortune distinguishes ; you shall have gold. Honors aggrandize and elevate ; I offer you dignities. You are endowed with a high mind ; before you incense shall burn. Be a vassal of my deity, and I will make you a demigod.' Then the energy of that man melts before selfishness. From sublime he be- comes vulgar ; from independent he becomes servile. He bends the -knee to the infamous idol of a human god, sells his liberty to a tyrant, measures himself by him, moulds his ideas on his degraded thoughts, his conscience to crime ; he writes, and, instead of offering himself to humanity as a burnt offering on the altar of truth, immolates himself to egotism on the altar of falsehood. " Where is the man whose integrity has not become feeble before corrupters ? Where is the genius among any people which has not been depressed under the PATTI, AND JULIA. 199 weight of absolute power ? Still, that man and many others have existed ; but how difficult it is to discrim- inate them in perusing history ! At the time when France was overspread with immortal men, how many among them kept themselves honorable and repulsed servility? Would Bossuet have flattered, if a royal egotist had not harnessed to his chariot this royal tal- ent ? * Would he have opposed the pretensions of Rome, which were unjust and absurd, it is true, if an iron power had not weighed upon him ? Two hands held the pen of Bossuet his and that of Louis XIV. Fenelon, that privileged understanding, that Christian heart, that hero of virtue, that sensible and loving soul, declared he loved humanity. He pro- duced, to "advocate its interests, one of the literary masterpieces which honor the human mind. But that man who said, ' The nation is myself,' added, * The im- maculate is myself, truth is myself, I am impeccable. God is omnipotent in the universe ; I am omnipotent in France. Let every thing perish which converges not to me and sustains not my omnipotence.' Then this Haman, intoxicated with pride because a Mordecai adored not his thoughts, but said, ' Kings are created for the people,' caused the gibbet of the exile to be reared for the friend of God and of men. Jealous Herod, he wished to stifle in his furious embraces the beautiful child of the soul of Fenelon. Believing it dead, he threw it into the pit of oblivion ; and, fearing its resurrection, he placed guards around its tomb. But the moment of cold equality and silent fraternity * LOTUS XIV., King of France. 200 PAUL AXI> JULIA. came. He who believed himself great, a god on earth, died ; and the shrouded reappeared in life. Still, F^- nelon * sacrificed truth to his private interests ; as proof, he entreated Bossuet, whilst exiled in La Trera- "blade, to reconcile him to Louis XIV. " If, then, in that epoch of gigantic development of human intelligence, truth remained concealed under a "bushel, was truth on the chandelier in that dark age- in which the eye of the appreciator cannot read ? in that age when rare men only knew how to trace and reproduce their thoughts when kings, legislators, and promulgators of doctrines made their own history or dictated it to their courtiers ? How would important truths have shone forth since the fall of Rome, when tyrants, succeeding to power, killed the Christians, and wished to annihilate their doctrines ? How would they have shone forth in Asia, when instruction was there proscribed by the laws ; when the caliphs, in the? name of those laws, burned the rich library of Alexan- dria, and all others within their reach ? How would they have shone forth in Europe during the reign of feudalism at the time when lords, marquises, viscounts, counts, dukes, kings, and emperors had in * We read in the works of Maury, the celebrated orator of the French revolution of the last century, and in several histories, th.it Louis XIV. persecuted Fenelon on account of his book entitled " Telemachus ; " that he exiled him from his court, forbade the editors to print his book, ordered the public officers to seize and burn all the copies of it. All thus disappeared ; but, after the death of Louis XIV., a ralet de chambre of Fenelon gave the printer a copy of the manuscript which he had concealed. Thus was pre- served this valuable book, which has been translated into so many languages. PAUL A^D JULIA. 201 their hands the sceptre of tyranny, and destroyed, in all classes of society, intelligent men who wished to raise their voice against ignorance and tyranny ? at the time when the lords, etc., killed the poor people with swords hallowed by the bishops ; when kings and emperors knelt before a pope, and, kissing his feet, obtained from him, in the name of God, permission to slay their subjects as the butchers slay lambs ; at the time when the people, reduced to be pariah, adored all these tiger gods who devoured them, and bowed before the priests who imposed upon them such worship ; at the time, especially, when the blood shed by the Papa- cy overflowed Europe, when its inquisitors burned both books and authors ? Therefore I must come to the conclusion that I cannot find in history these original truths. " Young Greek, I then said to myself, Where can I find them in philosophical or religious systems ? But logic is flexible and elastic ; each philosopher bends and applies it to his opinions. Each religion produces facts and proofs. I have studied all systems ; and not one explains to me even what my senses ex- perience : how can they inform me about what I can reach only with the eyes and the hands of my intel- ligence ? *' Where, then, find these truths, the knowledge of which is my most earnest longing ? for I feel in myself a burning fire, an active flame, which consumes me. I know not the hand that has lighted this fire ; but I feel that it devours me. Where, then, shall I find them ? In the teaching of orators, wise and learned professors r It is true that the fascination of their 202 PAUL AXD JTJLIA. talents has surprised me, that the penetration of their minds has astonished me, that their genius has struck me with admiration. But all their opinions are di- vergent ; they have not settled my mind ; they, on the contrary, have obscured all the .questions. What I would have denied I am inclined to affirm ; what I would have affirmed I am inclined to deny ; what was certainty with me is for me doubtful ; my mind is dark on all the most important questions. " Where, then, find these truths ? In the general reason of people ? But that which is idolatry in Ger- many is lawful adoration in the States of the Church. What is superstition in England is the worship of Ita- ly. What is holy and sacred in Rome is profane and despised in London. What is virtue in the countries of the north is a vice and a crime among the nations of the south. What is honorable in Constantinople is a dishonor in Paris. A stronger proof yet : if I cross a river, pass a mountain, or overleap the landmark which separates two empires, candor becomes false- hood, virtue vice, and error truth. " Shall I, then, after being exhausted in vain efforts, despair of quenching my thirst for a knowledge of these important truths ? No. Whether God exists or exists not, whether I am to live forever or only for a moment, I ought to be able to satisfy the imperious wants of my being. Study ought to afford bread to my soul, as labor procures it for my body. An inter- nal voice whispers it to me ; a secret sentiment makes me aware of it. " If I look upon myself, I find two beings the one visible, the other invisible ; the one corporeal, which PAUL AND JULIA. 203 assimilates me to animals, the other intellectual, which constitutes me the king of the material universe. The first is richly provided with all that is necessary for its preservation and growth ; the other consequently pos- sesses more eminently every thing which is required for its existence and development. But among these means of existence and development, the.most inherent in its nature is reason ; it is the compass which directs men on the ocean of truth, the torch which lights them, the eye that watches and informs them. If it misleads men, and conducts them in the obscurity of ignorance to the precipice of error, it is because they divest of its native energy this power of the soul, which is to its lifa what the eye is to the body. Is the eye clear and simple ? the body moves in light. Are the exterior agents more or less injurious to the organs constitut- ing the eye ? the motion of the body is more or less obscure. Therefore, if the reason is preserved pure, the mind lives in light ; whereas it exists more or less in darkness in proportion as it has received a culture more or less deleterious. Since, then, reason is the eye of the mind, if it has not been vitiated by a false culture, if, artless and upright, it remains free from all passions, if it has observed without determining, and studied the different systems without adopting them, it has then preserved its native purity. The mind which it instructs is in light ; it can then boldly, with- out any fear, advance in its development and in the acquisition of truth. *' But my reason informs me that it is not in monu- ments and human institutions that I ought to seek the solution of these vital questions, because their de- 204 PAUL AXI) JUJ.IA. lineations are too dark and incomplete ; that it is not in the ideas of men, because ignorance and a bigoted faith causes them to be either systematic or as light as the wind, but in that which is stable and out of their reach in nature. " I then open this great book, of which every artless and pure hand can break the seal, without being mis- led in its pages, without being lost in the labyrinth of systems, the inventors thereof wish to apply that which is to that which their imagination creates. I question it on myself and on beings existing around me ; it re- sponds, that there is one God eternal, and one alone ; that a conscious link between God and man exists, viz. : there is a tie of love generating duty ; that God has established connections between man and his fellow- men, viz. : the tie of love generating duty. " Young Greek, I concluded, then, that the gospel had not deceived me ; that it is only the echo of my reason when it says to man, " ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.' PAUI, AND JULIA. 205 CHAPTER XXXI, VARIOUS CHRISTIAN" CHURCHES. ANECDOTE. ROMANISM. THEN became a disciple of Christ. But among Christians who, like my- self, believed the gospel, the greater number did not even admit the fun- damental truths, though expressed in this sacred code. They fabricated an infinite number of symbols, which are, the most of them, monstrous mixtures of the doctrines of Christ with the creations of their own fancies and passions. " I will not attempt to speak to you, even briefly, of my inquiries about the doctrines of the divers sects, which have multiplied to infinity in Christendom ; of Romanism but I forgot that you, young Greek, are a Roman Catholic. Do you allow me to speak of it ? " " Certainly," replied Paul. Isram continued : " I will not speak even briefly of my inquiries on, Romanism that denomination of Christians, or rather idolaters, which has given birth to, and perpetuated 18 206 PAUL AND JULIA. among various people, discord and hatred ; which has armed and empowered tyrants against their subjeets in the name of God ; which has choked in the heart the precious seed of the gospel ; spread ignorance, fanati- cism, and superstition all over society ; caused rivers of blood to run ; and retarded, for so many ages, the im- provement, instruction, and happiness of mankind. I will limit myself to telling you that three great churches appeared to me to stand triumphantly over the frag- ments of the many sects which figured, and figure still, in the arena of doctrines, wherein the struggles arc so animated that they produce bloody conflicts. Some have fallen, and disappeared forever ; others are dying and agonizing ; others, however, sustain the combat. " One of these churches, that of the Protestants, (which, though including many churches, can be con- sidered as an only church,) has been predominating for several ages in the northern kingdoms of Europe, and has ramified in divers countries of the west and south. It has grown powerful in America, and even in the islands beyond the seas. " Of the two other churches, one, that of the Greeks, extends its dominion over the religious and antique East ; the other, that of the Latins, reigns over the greater part of the west and south of Europe. It in- vades Asia, and the New World, and extends its branches all over the globe. It is the most powerful among the churches, though mostly absurd and in- jurious to society. The symbols of the last two churches are almost identical ; they, nevertheless, have been for about a thousand years disunited, and advan- cing separately. To bring before your eyes the dif- PAUL AND JULIA. 20? ference I found between the symbols of these three churches, I will relate to you the following anecdote : " I embarked at London for Amsterdam. The sea being ruffled, and the winds contrary, navigation was retarded. To charm away the ennui of the voyage, the passengers gave themselves up to the pleasures of sport and feasting. I remarked among them a group of sober, grave, and learned men, who spent their time in reading or speaking of travels, literature, history, arts, and sciences. I listened to their conversation with the greatest interest. One day they made reli- gious questions the topic of their conversation. At first, they made only general remarks on the bearing of religion on society ; but soon after, they engaged in a dispute on this subject. " The Protestant reproached the Roman Catholic with intolerance and exclusiveness ; accused him of having a faith opposed to reason, and of disguising, in an absurd and enticing manner, the evangelical dog- mas and morals. He congratulated the Greek Chris- tian upon having broken off from Rome, and from the bishops of the West ; upon having broken off the yoke of the Papacy, and taken immense countries from its ambition and tyranny. Yet he, at the same time, re- gretted that he had preserved in his creed the Catholic Judaism, and formed the desire of having his church regenerated in the baptism of reason, of the free inter- pretation of the Scriptures, and of the Holy Ghost. " The Greek Christian anathematized the Papacy, and the church of the West ; approved the Protestant in his desertion, but condemned his indifference for Oriental traditions, and for practices cemented for cen- turies in the Christian religion. 208 PATTI, AND JULIA. "The Roman Christian reproached the Protestant for the allowance that he had made of reason to the detriment of authority, and also for incoherency in his creed, as having given birth to a great number of sects. He charged the Greek Christian with pride, with in- adequacy in his creed, and with his separation from the Romish church. " ' What is, then, your creed ? ' asked the Protestant and Greek Christian. " ' I believe all that the pope teaches me through the bishops and the priests.' " ' Would you believe all that the pope should fancy to impose upon you ? ' " ' Certainly.' " ' If he obliged you to believe that you do not ex- ist, should and could you believe it ? ' " ' Certainly.' " ' We beg leave to say to you that you would not and could not believe it.' " ' I assure you that I should, could,, and would be- lieve it ; for the pope is the vicar of Jesus Christ, con- sequently the lieutenant of God. Since I ought to believe the word of God, I ought to believe the word of the pope.' " At this answer, the Protestant and the Greek Christian smiled with astonishment and pity. The Roman Catholic then rose, and with a loud, energetic, and imperious tone said to them, " ' You listen to my words with astonishment and contempt, exactly as the Jews did to the doctrine of Jesus Christ. You have hardened your ears and heart to Romanism ; but know, and keep in your mind, thai PAUL AXD JULIA. 209 out of my church you are branches severed from the trunk of Christianity, thereby dead ; that you are be- fore my eyes worse than the heathens and the publicans ; that you cannot be saved, and are destined to an eter- nal and certain reprobation ; that you are enemies of Jesus Christ, and anathematized by his church ; that you bear engraved on your foreheads this ineffaceable sentence and malediction Reprobates ! ' " By politeness the Protestant and the Greek Chris- tian did not reply ; still a satirical smile was delineated on their lips. " Though the following circumstances do not pertain to my subject, I relate them to complete the account of this anecdote. " A Jew who was witness of the dispute, then spoke and said, ' Christians, it is not astonishing that you have different creeds, because the Christian religion, being based on error, bears in its bosom division, an with it a germ of dissolution. My church alone pos- sesses truth. My faith alone is the true one. Man- kind was isolated in breaking the bond of union wine* existed between them and the Divinity. Wi*h gen- erations and ages the primitive traditions had been ef- faced. Ignorance had given birth to error ; and error had engendered the desertion of all original truths, even that of the unity of God and his spirituality. All organization of matter which surprised, flattered, 01 frightened, had been called God. Then God said to himself, " A nation shall be great and privileged among other nations. It shall bear in its hands the torch of truth, which shall give light to the present genera- tions, and those of the future." This was the Jewisb 18* 210 PAUL AND JULIA. nation. A man raised up among the people, he dic- tated to them the most sublime and most perfect po- litical, social, and religious legislation that has ever appeared. God constituted him his prophet, and the forerunner of the Messiah, who is not yet come. He will appear only in a future age for the salvation and glory of Israel. This man was Moses.' " ' O Jew,' replied the Christians, ' Moses was, it is true, a great prophet. God revealed to him your religion ; but it is incomplete and full of imperfections. In the sight of the Most High it was only symbolic, only figurative, only preparatory to the religion of Him who is truly the Messiah, and whose law is the fulfil- ment of that of Moses.' " ' Christians,' spoke a sceptic, ' believe me, you de- ceive yourselves. Christ was not the Messiah ; he was only a philosopher, a profound legislator, a great man if you will, but nothing else. Your people, O Jew, are an absurd people. Your Moses was only an illustrious impostor. United secretly to the Egyptian priesthood, he stripped it of all that was true in its doctrine. More artful than the magicians, he con- founded them with a mean worship. Brought up in the court of Pharaoh, from the low he wished to be- come the great ; from the subject he wished to become the ruler ; from the oppressed to be the tyrant. His tribe being in servitude, he said to them, " You are slaves ; follow me : God has revealed to me that you shall be free. You are poor ; follow me : God has re- vealed to me that you shall be rich." " ' By his imposture he made an ignorant and super- stitious king turn pale upon his throne. Ail Egypt PAUL AND JULIA. 211 wept, so deeply had lie thrown her into misery. He watered with blood all the sand of this vast country. Israelites, whose science was limited to the fabrication of brick, trembled before him with admiration and with stupor. They followed him ; and this cruel and ambitious man, before giving them a country, be- fore changing their tents for dwellings, pretended to divine intervention, and led them for forty years in a wilderness of a few months' travel. There he opened graves for millions of men. Thousands fell by his sword, because nakedness, famine, and thirst drew complaints from them, or because they forgot for a mo- ment his doctrine, pretended to be descended from heaven. There he, pretending again to divine revela- tion, traced puerile statutes, published oppressive laws, and imposed a worship, whose despotism is mostly barbarous, ignorant, and absurd.' " The Jew and the Christians exclaimed indig- nantly, " ' Your language, O philosopher, is a tissue of error, bad will, and calumny. The hatred and ani- mosity which overflow your heart blacken your lips.' " At these words their spirits became heated ; they began to contend harshly ; and a quarrel ensued. For- tunately their friends intervened, and prayed them to put an end to the dispute. " Unable yet to discern which was the true church, I continued to observe and to inform myself. When I had travelled over and studied almost the whole of Europe, I set out for Rome to visit that so celebrated bulwark of Catholicism. In seeing this ancient capital of the universe, this rendezvous of all monuments and \ : * - 212 PAUL AXD JULIA. souvenirs, where rest the ashes of martyrs and those of their executioners, where repose in glory the remains of the first apostles, and in opprobrium those of their tyrants, I was deeply moved. I there devoted some time in questioning my memory, gathering my obser- vations, pondering the history of past ages, analyzing the present, and raising the veil of futurity, in or- der to throw light upon the different doctrines, and to fix firmly my religious faith. I studied particularly Romanism. I not only did not find in that church the primitive Christian purity, but I shrieked with horror at seeing the corruption of its members ; at seeing the indescribable turpitude and infamy of its priests, monks, bishops, cardinals, etc. ; especially at seeing the impiety, immorality, selfishness, intolerance, and tyranny of the pope, or rather of that heathen pontiff, who is a sacred hypocrite and tyrant, the very Anti- christ of Revelation ! PAUL AND JULIA. 213 CHAPTER XXXII. RETURN OF ISRAM TO CONSTANTINOPLE. END OF THE RELATION OF ISRAM. HIS CONYERSATION WITH HIS FATHER ON CHRISTIANITY, MAHOMET- ANISM, ROMANISM, AND CHRISTIAN FRATERNITY. AUL, my father, who desired my return after so long an ab- sence, welcomed me home with so much the more eager- ness and joy, because he thought that henceforth I should be the glory and con- solation of his old age. He presented me to the emperor, who promised my father to promote me to high offices and dignities ; but offices and dig- nities had no attraction for me. Intending to become an apostle of fraternity among men, I could not contribute by my services to strengthen a tyrant on his throne ; I could not determine to be myself the tyrant of my brethren. " My father, who took notice of my indifference to such a bright prospect, could not penetrate the cause of it. He then closely observed my conversations, and watched my movements. One day he o^ned v 's heart, and said to me, 214 PAUL AJTD JTTMA. son, since your return to the paternal roof, you are thoughtful and melancholy. Why are you so ? ' " * My father, you are mistaken. I am not sad.' " * You do not confess it. But tell me, why are you not happy ? ' " * My father, I am happy, particularly to see you again. ** ' Your response gives me joy. The gratitude of a son is so sweet to the heart of a father ! Why then are you given to painful reflections ? ' " * They are not painful ; they are only serious.' ** * They arc only serious ? But is not your future prospect brilliant and secure ? Will you not fill im- portant offices, and furnish a career of honor? Will you not be promoted to one of the highest social sta- tions of the empire ? ' '* * Those things do not trouble my mind.' " * Is it the fear of wanting wealth ? But you will be rich.' ** ' It is not the object of my desires.' "*Do you doubt of obtaining honors? But yon will be one of the great of the empire ; you are already one of the favorites of the emperor.' " ' My father, I have not the least doubt about it, but I am far from thirsting after honors.' " ' My son, I am astonished at your language. Do yon forget that I am one of the great of the empire, and that you ought to inherit the fame of your father ? What suspicions yon awake in my mind! ' " ' Be sure, my father, that your son will never crim- son your cheeks with shame. He will be always worthy of you.' PAUL AXD JULIA. " ' Tell me why the name of Mahomet is so rarely on your lips.' " ' Because I rarely have occasion to speak of the prophet.' " ' You sometimes go to the Mosque of St. Sophia, but it is only to bury yourself in its library. I do not see you at the ceremonies, and you never assist in the assembly of believers. Explain this to me.' " ' I pray in secret.' " ' You have frequent interviews with the Chris- tians ? ' " * Yes, for my instruction.' " ' On what subject ? On the Christian religion ? ' " ' I already have religious convictions.' " ' Are they not those of your father ? ' " ' My religious convictions are the love of God and of my fellow-men.' " ' And of Mahomet and the Koran : ' " ' No, my father.' " ' Why so ? ' " ' Mahomet permit me to say so has not loved his fellow-men. His Koran is not a code of legisla- tion which can realize the happiness of mankind.' " ' You are then no longer a disciple of the great prophet ? ' " ' Pardon me, my father. My answer will afflict you ; but I owe myself to truth and to my conscience I am one no longer.' " Young Greek, when I pronounced these words, my father turned pale, and fixed his eyes upon the ground, appeared deeply grieved, and kept a long silence. He then, raising his eyes to heaven, exclaimed, * Unfortu- 216 PATTL JLND JTTLIA. nate father ! I have sent my son into distant countries ; he left me believer, and he returns to me an apostate!' and turning to me he said, " * Unfortunate son, you have then abjured your re- ligion ? ' " Yes, my father.' *' ' Which one is yours at present ? ' " ' I am a Christian.' " ' Why are you now a Christian ? ' *' ' Because Jesus Christ has taught men, by his word and his example, a doctrine which harmonizes with my reason in all points, and which is summed up in two precepts : Love God and man. No philosopher or prophet has ever taught any thing more simple, more sublime, and yet more analogous to the wants of man, considered either as an individual or as a member of society. During the short visit Christ made on earth, each of his steps was marked by an heroic act of self- denial, of love to God and to men. His life was the faithful echo of his teaching ; and we can say of him, He lived and died as a God,' " ' My son, Mahomet has been the greatest among prophets.' " ' My father, I do not believe it.' " * My son, Moses and Jesus prophesied, it is true. One performed prodigies, gave to the Hebrews laws and a country, and also proclaimed truths to them ; but his legislation was not even the sketch of that of a great people. He made them conquer only a limited country. His doctrine was narrow and in swaddling clothes, as his people were petty and in the cradle of civilization. Jesus came afterwards ; he wrought mir- %.A*vT 3PA.UL AND JULIA. 217 fcdes, and brought a more profound legislation. His doctrine was more elevated ; but the truths which ho taught are obscure and incomprehensible. Behold the division that you doubtless have remarked among his disciples. God then raised up Mahomet, who. was greater than they. He called him into the wilderness, and taught hint the celestial truths written in the Koran ; then said to him, " Be my apostle." " ' Mahomet descended from the mountains, laid the foundations of a vast empire, organized millions of men, and conquered one half of the world by his word, his doctrine, and his sword. He was even powerful enough to disdaia the weapon of the miracle workers.' " ' My father, if I am permitted, I will tell you my opinion about Mahomet,' " ' Speak,' " ' He was an ignorant, though celebrated and am- bitious man ; an infamous impostor, and a sanguinary despot. He wished to give fetters to consciences, to become great in his tribe, to be their tyrant, and through them to rule the universe. Each year during fifteen years he shut himself up for a month in a cavern of Mount Hera, and cultivating the love of the marvellous, which flatters all men, attracts and fascinates the vul- gar, he then came out and presented himself, saying, " ' " The angel Gabriel has appeared to me, and God has spoken to me through him. He has dictated to me the Koran, and favored me with many pages of it, written in golden letters. ' I commission thee,' he haa said to me ; ' be any prophet. Go to the tribe. Pre- sent to them this book ; it contains my wishes, my judgments, my promises, and my threats. If they De- 19 218 PAUL AND JULIA. lieve not, tell them that I have commissioned thee to use the sword and the flame. If they believe, order them to follow thee, and go among infidel nations. Present to them also the Koran. If they demand of thee who has sent thee, respond, Believe or die.' " A portion of the people only believed, and the remainder of the tribe spurned at his word. He then took the cimeter. Dead bodies fell around him as numerous as the blades of grass mowed down in the fields by the scythe. He saturated the sand of the desert with blood, and pillaged flourishing cities, leaving not one stone upon another. He spread through immense countries desolation, pillage, fire, and death.' " ' God directed him to do so.' " ' How could God have directed him to do 80 he \vho holds crime in horror ? He had never spoken to him. In proof of it, he was not able to prove his pre- tended divine mission." When the people saw the heap of dead bodies and of smoking ruins, and the flocks of men, women, and children led in bondage, they were terrified, and exclaimed, "We believe." Thus Mahom- et implanted his faith. " ' He then arrayed himself as a pontiff, and with sacrilegious thoughts and impure intentions, with the heart of a tiger and the hands of a fratricide, he made to the Author of life offerings of death ; he caused to rise to the Father of mankind the smoking blood of his children ; washed his temple in it, and let drop his assassinating sword even on the altar that he had crimsoned. " ' He took with one hand a sceptre that God had not given him, and, with the other brandishing his PAUL AND JULIA. 219 cimeter, lie advanced at the head of the tribe, presid- ing over the trembling and the dead. In his presence the people prostrated themselves, and bent their heads in the dust believed and adored. He murdered all who did not accept his doctrine ; advanced through nations, never laying aside the sword ; and he ceased to strike and to plunge the weapon in the breast of those he called infidels only when his arm, exhausted, could handle no longer his fratricidal sword. He ap- propriated to himself the spoils of his victims ; became the richest of the descendants of Ishmael ; had many wives ; forced his most zealous defenders and his most faithful believers to yield him their wives when he loved them. He pushed his brutal passions so far as to marry a virgin eight years of age.' " My father interrupted me by saying, " ' Mahomet was a saint, the elect of the elect, the favored of the Most High. His words and his actions were inspired by God.' " I continued : ' He had, it is true, natural talents ; but he^made them serve his ignorance, his hypocrisy, his vengeance, his perfidy, his lust, his pride, his am- bition ; in a wordj his selfishness. When, extended on the bed of agony, he saw that the prolongation of his life was hopeless, and yet that much blood remained to be spilled, he said to those around him, " Fight against the infidels, until all false religion is exterminated. Put them to the sword ; spare them not ; and, when you have enfeebled them by a relentless carnage, reduce the rest to slavery, and oppress them with tributes."* * Koran, eh. viii. ver. 12, 13 ; ix. ver. SO ; xlvii. ver. 4. 220 PAUL AND JULIA. " * He died, and left to mankind, as a heritage, the Koran this pretended code of the divine word, wherein all crimes have their apotheosis ; wherein vices are deified, but truth and virtue have scarcely a room ; wherein ignorance, annihilation of reason, tyranny, debasement of woman, and degradation of human na- ture are commanded, consecrated, and sanctioned, on pain of death.' " ' What an exaggeration ! The Koran contains the truth.' " ' My father, I cannot believe that the truth is contained in the Koran. It is only in the gospel. The caliphs, worthy successors of Mahomet, remained among the believers as continuators of the pretended mission of Mahomet, as heirs of his wealth and of his power. They have nourished, through their imans, for many centuries, generations of more than sixty millions of men, with the bread of ignorance, corruption, super- stition, and fanaticism. Of them they made beasts of burden. I repeat it, they assimilated them to their flocks, and disposed of their bodies and souls aaiif they had been their own property. Even more recently, the sultans have become their imitators and their brothers. Every day we witness their tyranny and cruelty.' " Paul, when I spoke so, the gestures of my father were impatient ; his glance inflamed ; his visage ex- pressed wrath. He could not restrain himself from interrupting me. " ' My son,' said he, ' your language is strange ; it irritates me. You calumniate Mahomet, and blas- pheme his creed. If he has spilled blood, and violated PAUL AXD JULIA. 221 the laws of the Koran, it was by the direction of God. It is not he whe instituted tyranny, but God himself. In proof of it, there have been always tyrants and oppressed. If you consider these facts and these insti- tutions as misfortunes, know that, in the view of the Creator, some evils are inevitable and profitable in society.' " 'My father,' I replied, 'can I answer you without exciting your anger ? ' " ' Speak ; open to me freely your thoughts and sen- timents ; for in spite of my sorrow and displeasure, I still am your father.' " ' My father, a faith may not be imposed by the sword, and God cannot authorize a committal of crime ; this is the voice of reason. Mahomet has been, then, only a sanguinary impostor, a wicked wretch. As to tyranny, God is not its author, and it is not an inev- itable and profitable evil in society. " ' In the beginning, all men had God for a Father, and for a patrimony the universe : together they had to live on the earth as the children of the same family. But selfish men denied their brothers, and constituted themselves their tyrants. How many times has God pronounced his maledictions against them ! how many deliverers of humanity has he called out ! Is it not he who commissioned Moses to deliver Israel from the yoke of Pharaoh ? who preceded by his luminous cloud a great nation going into the wilderness to obtain lib- erty r Is it not he who sent Jesus Christ on earth to announce to men that he opened heaven to them ? that all are brothers, and ought to love one another ? And these tyrants, because the people marvelled at his doc- 19* 222 PAUL AND JULIA. trine, and his works, and wished to call him the Son of God ; because he was the son of an artisan ; hecause he opened to mankind the road of deliverance in preaching to the oppressors that the oppressed were their broth- ers, these tyrants, I say, made him their victim, called him a madman, whipped him, crowned him \\ ith thorns, spat upon him, nailed him to the gibbet of malefactors, and thereon killed him. Afterwards they slew his disciples ; and did not admit him in their Pantheon until they discovered that the faith of the people in his mission could serve their interests. " ' Therefore, God is not the author of tyranny, and it is not an inevitable and profitable evil in society. It was established only by the most selfish among men, and Mahomet has consecrated it. He has gone so far as to debase woman by polygamy.' " ' What say you, my son ? ' responded my father. * Mahomet" r has debased woman by polygamy ! Is it not the will of God that woman be the property of man ? ' " ' No, my father,' I replied, ' God has not created her to be his property, but his companion. To love each other is inherent in the heart of man and woman ; but love is exclusive. A man who has several wives, and a woman who has several husbands, violates this law of nature, falls into a disorder of the senses, a ne- gation of love, and a degradation of the heart. " ' God has made woman the blood of the blood of man, the flesh of his flesh, the bone of his bone, the mind of his mind, the heart of his heart, and the life of his life. Separate these two existences and both wither, because the parts would no longer form a whole ; there would be no more unity in the plurality ; PAUL AND JTTUA. 223 not that I condemn celibacy, for Christ remained vir- gin, and said to his disciples, " He that is able to re- ceive it, let him receive it." " ' The body of man is strong, solid, vigorous, robust; that of woman is frail, graceful, slender, delicate. The character of man is violent, energetic, rude, cold, inflex- ible ; that of woman is mild, pliant, soft, ardent, mal- leable. The mind of man is strong, extended, profound, penetrating ; that of woman is supple, vivacious, sub- tile, varied. The heart of man is silent, austere, noble, magnanimous ; that of woman is affable, compassionate, sensitive, heroic.' " ' My son, this is not the nature of woman.' " ' My father, you are right. It is not the nature of woman in the Ottoman empire, because Mahomet, the caliphs, and the sultans have annihilated her na- tive faculties ; because they have fashioned her with the Koran.' " I continued : * Man builds habitations ; woman charms his abode. He founds cities ; she polishes them. Sociability is inherent in the nature of man ; woman embellishes society, and gives it mild laws. Man is the head of the family ; woman is its body. Man begets children ; woman gives them light. In the heats of summer, or the chilly blasts of winter, man is exhausted by hard labor ; woman provides for his wants. When, at night, he returns to the fireside, fatigued and down-hearted, she revives his stiffened limbs, and cheers him with her smile, with her sooth- ing and consoling words. Man conceives great de- signs, executes gigantic undertakings ; woman inspires him with courage. Man is gladdened and strengthened FAUI, AXT> JUXIA, against misfortunes; woman increases his joy a hun- dred fold, and adorns his triumph. Man reels under adversity ; woman sustains him. Man is the oak ; woman is the ivy ; if the ivy creeps upon the earth,, it droops, dies, and leaves to the oak but an isolated, poor, and languishing life ; whereas, if the ivy interlaces the oak with its folds, they both have but one life r which is bright, happy, vigorous, and secular j the oak protects it; and if a storm approaches to tear them asunder, it embraces more closely its trunk, and dies only when it dies : this is the image of the life and death of man and woman. " ' Woman is not only the complement of man, but she even possesses, in an eminent degree, qualities which have been but imperfectly imparted to him. To what an extent is she not excited by her love for her husband ! Does she calculate her sacrifices ? Does she ask herself the degree of her attachment ? Docs she return to measure the steps she has taken ? Does she look at her feet, if, at each step, thorns have sprin- kled them with blood ? My father, follow her, if you can, in her maternal love. Find, if you can, the thread which leads into the labyrinths of her heart. " ' For nine months she bears her child in her womb ; gives it birth in cruel pains ; wastes her youth, her strength, and her health around its cradle ; transforms her life into its life ; and when it dies, she would die too if some invisible tie did not detain her on earth it is to love and suffer more. " ' How sublime is her filial love ! We find therein both the mysterious and the sublime. She knows how to charm the old age of her father, and make him for- PAUL AND JULIA. 225 get his infirmities. Should she be compelled to mount the scaffold, the day of her execution would be to her a day of supreme happiness. " ' Let us follow her the night after a battle. When tne roar of the cannon is dying away in the bottom of the plain, when the frightened sun has withdrawn his light, and the shroud of darkness conceals so much horror, she then directs her steps, torch in hand, to the field of battle, advances in the midst of the blood, which runs and crimsons her shoes, across limbs torn asunder, shattered arms, and mutilated corpses, resem- bling the spirit of humanity who comes to shed tears over this frightful massacre. Has a plaintive cry struck her ear ? She approaches the exhausted soldier, wipes the dust from his visage, cleanses his wounds, stanches the trickling blood, covers him with apparel, and, hav- ing exhausted all the cares which tenderness suggests to her, she by soft words calls his heart to sentiment and gives him courage. " ' Let us behold her at the bed of an agonized be- ing, who has no other claim upon her affection and attachment than that which forlornness and misfortune inspire. During his sickness she has purified his ul- cers, and consecrated her vigils to softening his pains ; and when he expires, she weeps over his dead body, believing herself in widowhood because she can no longer lavish on this unfortunate creature the love and repulsive cares which the generosity of her soul ren- dered delightful to her. " ' Woman is a mystery. Her existence here below is but a long and incessant martyrdom, which she en- dures for man. However, she complains not of this 226 PAUL AND JTUL1A. martyrdom, for her heart loves ; and where there la love, suffering is transformed into pleasure.' " ' My son,' replied my father, ' your language is pitiful. You had % beautiful dream ; all that you say of woman is imaginative.' " ' My father, I have seen woman formed by the gos- pel. I have studied her among the Christians. She is the soul of society ; she gives life to it. It is she who drops the consoling penny in the hand of poverty ; it is from her lips that words fall which soften the lot of the unfortunate. She brings together the great and the low, the rich and the poor. She ties the bonds of society ; it is through her that almost all good is ef- fected. " ' And this creature, so inseparable from man, so beautiful, so loving, so generous, so celestial, and so adorable, should she be the property of man, and not his companion ? O, no ! ' ' Paul interrupted Isram, asking eagerly, " Did not the remarkable doctrine of the gospel on the rehabitation of woman somewhat excite the admi- ration of your fa thei ? " " Not at all, young Greek. He remained cold and inflexible. His features expressed only a feeling of pity for my blindness. Alas ! prejudice and error implant themselves and take root in the heart as the tares in the fields ; they afterwards develop them- selves, and leave no room for truth and sentiment. However, he had listened to me without irritation. He then said to me, " ' My son, if I have listened to you without impos- ing silence on your blasphemy against Mahomet, your PAUL AND JULIA. 227 impieties against the religion of your fathers, and the exposition of your new and deplorable doctrines, it is that I excuse your youth, deplore your errors, and mourn over your incredible blindness. As to the real- ization of fraternity among men, it is an absurd dream.' " ' My father, pardon me ; you are mistaken. Jesus Christ has said, " The hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth, for the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a spirit ; and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth ; " which worship Christ explains in the following words : " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment ; and the second is like unto it : Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." And, my father, if you observe the actual social phenomena, and compare them with the past, you will draw the conclusion that the time is come wherein the Christian fraternity is to reign among men.' " ' Listen to me, my son, and you will be convinced that the fraternity spoken of in the gospel is impossi- ble, not only among men, but even among Christians. Are not the prelates of the Romish church that gi- gantic denomination of Christians as intolerant and egotistic as were our caliphs ? Are not their thoughts, words, and deeds the derision of the life and teaching of their Master ? He, Christ, was born the poorest among the children of the people ; and these prel- 228 PATJI, AXD JULIA. ates are born the richest among the children of the proud. " ' Christ was a poor mechanic ; for thirty years the hammer and chisel hardened his hands ; and these prelates oppress the mechanics ; their hands are virgins of work ; they have but a look of contempt for the man of labor, and hold that idleness and ignorance are a title to greatness. " ' Christ dressed himself like the other children of the people, lost himself in their ranks ; and these prelates, his pretended apostles, wear, to rank above the people, rich and floating tunics ; if sometimes they appear in the crowd, it is but to attract gazers, to beg admiration, or rather to solicit adorations. Adorned with their luxuriant garments, surrounded by a crowd of attendants, who are in their meanness proud to wear their liveries and to be their slaves, and escort- ed by a double rank of guards of honor, they isolate themselves from the people, compel them to stay at a distance, and bid officers to order them to kneel when they are passing among them. " ' Christ had not where to lay his head, thus frater- nizing with the poor ; and these prelates dwell in pal- aces, wherein, near a splendid chapel, they have a sanctuary of voluptuousness, where, for money, they change a profane into a sacred thing, vice into virtue, sin into laudable deeds, and open hell or heaven, where they forge irons to fetter the too credulous faith- ful, who believe them to be gods, where they have soldiers to protect their sleep and guard their heaps of money, salaries from the sweat of the people, which they have stolen by working on their ignorance and PAUL AND JULIA. 229 superstition, thus fraternizing with the enemies of Christ, of whom he has said, " Ye know that they which are accounted to rule over the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and their great ones exercise au- thority upon them ; but so shall it not he among you ; but whosoever will be great among you shall be your minister." The prelates not only imitate the rulers of the Gentiles, but go farther : they hold two scep- tres, to impose upon the people a heavier tyranny the one in their palaces, and the other in the churches as lieutenants of God. " ' Christ said, " No man can serve two masters ; for either he will hate the one and love the other . . . Ye cannot serve God and mammon." " Provide nei- ther gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses, nor scrip for your journey, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves." " Take, therefore, no thought for the morrow." And these prelates love silver and gold, luxury and vanity ; they heap immense riches and hoard incalculable treasures. To make money they sell the gospel, even the sacraments. Could they sell God, they would do so. " ' Christ loved the poor, modest, and forsaken peo- ple ; and these prelates are fond of none but the great, the proud, and happy men of the world. " ' Christ w^s satisfied with the necessaries of life, and partook with the needy of the morsel of bread that he had softened and sanctified with his blessings and tears ; and these prelates, in their sensuality, load their tables with the most exquisite meals, and often sit at the tables of the rich. " ' Christ refused to be a king, for a bearer of scep- 20 230 PAUL AND JULIA. trea cannot be the brother of his subjects ; and these prelates have usurped the royalty. One of them went so far in his mockery of Christ as to wear even a gold- en crown, which Christ would have thrown in the mud, because it would have stained his brow, fit only to be shaded with a thorny crown. These great men of Christianity have divided the portion of the earth that they have conquered into myriads of kingdoms, to overrule them according to their caprice. " ' Christ chose his apostles among obscure and sim- ple men, whose consciences were right and pure ; and these prelates recruit themselves among the potent and illustrious, or, if in the low classes, among despicable men, whose souls have been polluted by ambition, whose hearts are dead to the love of their fellow- beings. " ' Christ fraternized with his apostles and disciples. He lived among them as if he had been the least of them. He was humble and loving so far as to wash their feet ; and these prelates appear before men like divinities. They mock the humility of Christ in wash- ing, on Holy Thursday, the feet of the handsomest children of the richest and most influential lords. " ' Christ said, " Whosoever of you will be the chiefest shall be the servant of all ; " and these prelates are oppressors and tyrants of the priests, to whom they have conceded a small royalty, that they be among the people the spies of their policy, the apostles of their sovereignty, and the pillars of their thrones. How- ever, they do not hold such commission from Christ ; but woe to them if they obey the Lord rather than those who ought to represent him ! ' PAUL AND JULIA. 231 " ' And you, my son, charge our caliphs and sultans with ambition, fanaticism, and tyranny ? And you hope that fraternity will be realized on earth ? How could it be possible, since the great of Christianity are a living derision of the gospel, and of the life of Jesus Christ?' " ' My father,' I answered, ' what you say is un- fortunately too true. The history of the princes of the Romish church is rather scandalous than edifying. They have too often forgot the maxims of their Mas- ter.' " ' Say, rather,' replied my father, ' that the great of Romanism have not been, and still are not, the disci- ples and successors of Jesus Christ, but those of the scribes and pharisees who persecuted him. Should he come again on earth, he would charge them as he once charged the scribes and pharisees. He said, " ' " The scribes and the pharisees sit in Moses' seat ; all therefore whatsoever they bid you observe, that ob- serve and do ; but do not ye after their works ; for they say, and do not." " ' My son, the scribes and pharisees of Christianity sit in Moses' seat. Do they observe and do what- soever they bid you observe ? Are not history and society filled with their scandals, enormities, and im- morality of every kind ? Far from marrying, or keep- ing themselves chaste in celibady, do they not disturb families in seducing unmarried and married women ? Do they not mount the steps of the pulpit, covered with gold, silver, silk, and embroideries ; thus mock- ing the people, and teaching them that poverty is the road which will l?ad them to heaven, whilst those poor 232 PAUL AND JULIA. people have exhausted themselves and starved their families to enrich them? " ' Jesus Christ added, " They [the scribes and the pharisees] bind heavy burdens, and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders ; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fin- gers." " ' Are not the scribes and pharisees of Christianity as cowardly, hypocritical, selfish, and tyrannical as were their forefathers ? " ' Jesus Christ added, " All their works [of the scribes and pharisees] they do to be seen of men ; they make broad their phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of their garments." " ' Are not the scribes and pharisees of Christianity more vain and haughty than their ancestors ? They have thrones ; sound a trumpet before them when, by ostentation and hypocrisy, they take from their treas- ures a piece of money, to give it with haughtiness to the poor mocking the maxim of Christ, "When thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth." They have always on their lips the letter of a law, that is engraved neither in their minds nor in their hearts. The borders of their garments are silk, silver, and gold. " ' Christ added, the scribes and the pharisees " love the uppermost -rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues, and greetings in the markets, and to be called of men rabbi, rabbi." " ' The scribes and the pharisees of Christianity bid the people not only to kneel and prostrate themselves before them, but compel them to style them, not, rabbi, PAUL AND JULIA. 233 it would be too little honor, but " Our Lords" They have armor seals, and counterseals, grand vicars, secre- taries, chaplains, canons, a multitude of satellites, which they cnoose among their most assiduous courtiers, and their most slavish valets in the priesthood. " ' Christ added, " But be not ye [my disciples^] called rabbi, for one is your Master, even Christ, and all ye are brethren." " ' Since the scribes and the pharisees of Christianity insult Jesus Christ so far as to compel the people to style them " Our Lords" they are enemies of their brethren, and apostates of the gospel, of apostleship, and of the religion of Christ. " ' Christ added, [My disciples,] " call no man your father upon the earth, for one is your Father, which is in heaven." " ' They, the scribes and the pharisees of Christianity, claim from the people the title of their " Spiritual Fa- thers " on earth. And at what do they aim ? To solidify and perpetuate, with their pretended and hypo- critical paternity, the despotism they have imposed upon them. " ' Christ added, " But woe unto you, scribes and pharisees, hypocrites ! for you shut up the kingdom of heaven against men ; for ye neither go in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in." " ' Have not the scribes and pharisees of Christian- ity, to serve their passions, and especially their avarice, overloaded with human institutions the religion of Christ ? Have not they entangled it with childish observances, fastidious practices, absurd beliefs, and prescriptions contrary to reason and to the law of 20* 234 PAUL AND JULIA. nature ? Do they not establish, laws directly opposed to the doctrine of Christ ? Do they not say to Christians, You shall not eat meat on Friday, on Saturday, on the eve of certain feasts, during all the Lent, etc. You shall not eat on certain days designated by us, though you will feel hungry ; if you transgress our prescrip- tions, you will sin mortally, and hell will be your por- tion ; thus deriding Christ's doctrine, " Whatsoever thing from without entereth into the man, it cannot defile him ; because it entereth not into his heart, but into the belly, and goeth out into the draught, purging all meats?" But what say I? Give them gold, and you may transgress their prescriptions without sin, and without going to hell. To their eyes gold is the key of heaven. " ' Christ added, " Woe unto you, scribes and phar- isees, hypocrites ! for ye devour widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayers ; therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation." " ' Are not the scribes and pharisees of Christianity doing so every day in imposing upon poor and defence- less widows the most onerous exactions, especially masses, dearly paid, for the pretended relief of the souls of their husbands, detained, they say, in pur- gatory ? " ' Christ added, " Woe unto you, scribes and phar- isees, hypocrites ! for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, ye make him two- fold more the child of hell than yourselves." " ' My son, are not the scribes and pharisees of Christianity restless in their efforts both to enlarge their domains, and increase their proselytes, but I PAUL AND JULIA. 235 should rather say their victims, and to spread all over the world, I do not say the teaching of Christ, but his gospel changed into a philosopher's stone, to make money and satiate their selfishness ? Do they not com- municate to their proselytes the corruption of their hearts ? Look at the countries which they overrule ; all, without one exception, are a sink of immorality.' " Whilst Isram repeated hefore Paul the utterance of his father, the young monk turned pale ; his features expressed astonishment, stupor, and consternation. He could not hear without tremhling that which he thought to be blasphemous and impious ; for in his be- lief, the priests, especially the prelates of the Romish church, were the successors of Jesus Christ himself; therefore, should they be the most criminal among men, they are not liable before society. Notwithstanding, the old man, who was absorbed in his recollections, did not notice it, and continued the speech of his father. " ' Woe unto you, scribes and pharisees, hypocrites ! ye blind guides, which strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel. " ' My son, do not the scribes and pharisees of Chris- tianity deem sinful the omission of an insignificant practice, of a foolish ceremony, and violate, remorseless, the precept of fraternal love ? What do I say ? Is it not in their belief a virtuous and glorious deed ? Do they not sow among nations, families, and all classes of so- ciety, discord and hatred ? And by what means ? By their intolerance, espionage, denunciation, detractions, slanders, and, above all, by their immorality and sen- suality. " 'Christ added, " Woe unto you, scribes and phari- 236 PAUL AND JULIA. sees, h/pocrites ! for ye make clean the outside of tne cup and of the platter, but within they are full of extor- tion and excess. Thou blind pharisee, cleanse first that which is within the cup and platter, that the outside of them may be clean also. Woe unto you, scribes and pharisees, hypocrites ! for ye are like unto whitened sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and of all unclean- ness. Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity." " ' My son, are not these words of Jesus Christ the true picture, or rather mirror, of the conscience of the scribes and pharisees of Christianity ? Have I spoken truth?' " ' My father,' I answered, ' you have unfortunately spoken but the truth. It seems that the picture which Jesus Christ traced of the perversity of the scribes and the pharisees of his age was but the prophecy of the perversity of the princes of Romanism. The maledic- tions that fell heavy upon them from the mouth of Jesus Christ fall again with all their weight upon those men, the prelates, who, accepting the inheritance of the scribes and of the pharisees, monstrous and impious inheritance of hypocrisy, selfishness, and tyranny, became thereby their true sons. For many centuries they have fettered human liberty. They have always stopped, and still stop, so far as it is in their power, the progress of science, the flight of genius, the im- provement of the human mind, and the social emanci- pation. They always forbade men thinking, believing, feeling, willing, and acting for themselves ; and such prohibition they imposed upon them under pain of ATTL AND JULIA. 237 mortal sin and hell. They at all times kept the people down in ignorance, superstition, and brutishness. " ' Every one who durst escape or affront their des- potism, who undertook to enlighten the people on their sacrilegious perversion of the gospel, became their victim. They immolated him in full day ; because po- tent enough to compel kings and emperors to borrow from them the sceptre, they bore both the crosier and the sword. They were then allowed to be vultures ; but now, their wings being clipped, they are but owls. They still have sharp nails, with which they, in the dark, tear into pieces and devour the reputation of the conscientious men, who disapprove of and protest against their crimes, their anti-natural and anti-Chris- tian teaching. " ' Jesus Christ said, " Woe unto you, scribes and pharisees, hypocrites ! because ye build the tombs of the prophets, and garnish the sepulchres of the right- eous, and say, If we had been in the days of our fathers," we would not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets. Wherefore ye be witnesses unto yourselves, that ye are the children of them which killed the prophets. Fill ye up then the measure of your fathers. Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?" " ' This is verily the duplicity of the great of the Romish Catholic church. We see them every day shedding fallacious and artful tears on the victims of truth whom their forefathers have immolated. This is too their divine and irrevocable sentence. Being as perfidious, poisonous, and deadly as vipers, the damna- tion of hell is their just punishment. 238 PATTL AND JULIA. " ' Christ said, "Wherefore, behold, I send unto you prophets, and wise men, and scribes : and some of them ye shall kill and crucify ; and some of them shall ye scourge in your synagogues, and persecute them from city to city." " ' This is the most striking picture of the Inqui- sition, which institution has been the most horrible among the most horrible calamities that have desolated mankind. It has been affixed to the wombs of nations as a devouring fire. It wasted them so that they were perishing and dying. In Spain alone, in three hun- dred and thirty-nine years, thirty-four thousand six hundred and fifty-eight conscientious men were burned alive in the solemn auto-da-fe. Eighteen thousand and forty-nine were burned in effigy. Two hundred eighty* eight thousand two hundred and fourteen were con- demned to galleys or to a perpetual prison. More than two hundred thousand, who were prisoners, and sen- tenced to bear the san benito, were condemned to an endless dishonor, themselves and their descendants. Five millions of citizens expatriated themselves to escape the cruelty of the holy office. Spain, that beau- tiful country, which counted, while inhabited by the Moors, thirty-five millions of people, was reduced to ten millions. " ' In the greatest part of the Catholic countries, the princes of the church compelled the Christians to build dungeons for themselves with their own hands ; to put up the woodpiles that were to be their death bed ; to make the wheels and other instruments that were to torture them ; to sharpen the poniards and the swords that were to immolate them. During four cen- PAUL AND JTJLIA. 239 turies, day and night, Europe saddened the heavens with its knells of death, its long cries of distress and agony. If now those princes of the Romish church cannot feed their eyes with the blood of those whom they call their enemies, they soften that long fast in launching against them the steel of hatred and detrac- tion, to give them social death. " ' Christ said too, " Verily I say unto you, All these things shall come upon this generation. O Jerusa- lem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not ! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate.". " ' For many centuries Jesus Christ repeats these complaints, threats, and prophecies by the mouth of his true disciples, who, because they are opposed to the corruption of those who say, "We are commissioned, and we alone, to preach the gospel," are considered as being the deadliest foes of Christianity. " Are you not aware," said and still say the true disciples of Christ to the princes of Romanism " are you not aware that the people see your hideous nudity ? that they have run the scalpel of observation through the most secret recesses of your iniquities? that they do not attend your temples? that they sneer at you: teaching, and now study for themselves the true spirit of the gospel ? that millions of men have shaken off your tyrannical yoke ? and that were not kings and emperors your defenders, because you are their political engines to restrain masses which you keep down in ignorance, superstition, and servitude, the last prophecy of 240 PAUL AND JtTLIA. Christ would soon perhaps have a terrible accomplish- ment?'"" While Isram spoke thus, Paul did not interrupt him ; hut he looked sad. Isram noticed it when he pronounced the last words, and asked him what in his account had hurt his feelings. " Venerable chief," he answered, " when I lived in the world, I heard say that the Romish prelates, priests, and monks had oppressed and still oppress the people. Besides, I noticed sometimes that their deeds were in discordance with the gospel ; but I sighed over their misdeeds, and, according to what I had been taught in my infancy, I defended them, and threw on their igno- miny the mantle of filial piety. When I entered into religion, I was ordered to believe that whatever ema- nates from ecclesiastical superiors bears the seal of divinity ; that any control of their words and acts is sacrilegious, because it is said in the gospel, ' He that despiseth you despiseth me ; and he that despiseth me despiseth him that sent me ; ' that it pertains to them to overrule humanity according to their own will ; be- cause it has been said to them, ' Take heed therefore unto yourselves, and to all the flock, over the which the Holy Ghost hath made you overseers, to feed the church of God, which he hath purchased with his own blood ; ' that they are shepherds, and we their sheep ; that whether they lead us to such or such pastures, shear us or spare our wool, reserve us for the fold, or destine us to the slaughter house, we must be dumb, and obey them like lambs, and without complaining walk to death, " This is, Isram, why I have been saddened by hear- * v JPATTL AND JULIA. 241 Ing you censure the clergy, and also because the ven- geance of God will perhaps pursue you ; for the minis- ters of Jesus Christ are more sacred than the holy ark was among the Jews ; and still it is related in the Bible that ' Uzzah put forth his hand to the ark of God and took hold of it, for the oxen shook it. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Uzzah ; and God smote him there for his error ; and there he died by the ark of God.' " " Paul," Isram answered, " my utterance has sad- dened you; I regret it. Yet my father and I have compared, without exaggeration, the teaching and be- havior of the ministers of your church with the obliga- tions imposed upon them by the gospel. They are inviolable, you say ; then they are equal to God, for he alone is not liable before the tribunal of humanity. To blemish them, when they are traitors to their mis- sion, is to despise them ; and to despise them is to despise Christ : we should then approve of the most infamous treasons and the most pernicious apostasy to the gospel and to Christ. To censure their words and deeds, when they mock mankind and God, is a profa- nation ; to disapprove them within one's self is a sac- rilege : we must then have eyes and not see, have ears and hear not, have a mind and understand nothing, be endowed with reason and not use this gift of our Maker, what say I ? we must trample upon it in using it wrongly and absurdly, in confounding good and evil, truth and error. The Holy Ghost, you add, has constituted the clergy overrulers of the human family : we must, in this case, resign oar manly dig- nity, cast off our personality, and substitute for our 21 * .* **- -% *-' 242 PAtTI, AND JULIA. reason the reason of another. "We are sheep ; the bish- ops, priests, and monks are our shepherds. Whether they lead us to such or such pastures, shear us or spare our wool, reserve us for the fold, destine us to the slaugh- ter house, \ve must be dumb and obey them, like lambs that, without complaining, walk to death : then God has said to man, when, intending to crown his work of love, he placed him on the earth, ' We gave to all be- ings a portion of individual life, emanating from the great whole of the collective life ; no power is permit- ted to impose laws upon them ; no hand is empowered to master their nature and change their condition of existence and development ; they ever and invariably shall accomplish their ends. But thou alone, man, who art the masterpiece of our hands, thou, whom we made "in our image, after our likeness," of whom we have said, " Let him have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cat- tle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth," thou alone, man, we say, though endowed with the richest and most beautiful portion of life, shalt lose that portion of life, and shalt be overruled, enslaved, and oppressed by an outward power. We have imposed upon thee prelates, priests, and monks, vested with the power to say to you, " Men, the senses and limbs of your body and the faculties of your soul do not belong to you ; they are ours. Therefore your eyes shall not read such writings, shall not look at such pictures, shall not glance at such persons, shall not witness such specta- cles, shall feel but such pleasures ; you shall shut or open them according to our will. Your ears shall not , PATTI, AND JULIA. 243 listen to such chants and harmonious sounds, to such conversations and discourses. Your sense of smelling shall enjoy but such perfumes. The use of your sense of touch shall he circumscribed by limits assigned by us. -We will overrule your taste to such an extent that you shall eat and drink not when and because you are hungry and thirsty, but when and because you will be allowed by us. We will determine the nature, quality, and quantity of your aliments and drinks, the hours and the duration of your meals. We bind you to all this under pain of mortal sin and hell. As to your limbs, they shall move or rest according to our will. Your mouths shall speak when permitted by us, and shall be silent when ordered by us ; they shall utter words purified by the test of our will. Accord- ing to our commandment your feet shall walk or shall be immovable ; they shall not carry you to visit such persons, or families, to assist at such spectacles, or ceremonies, or profane assemblies, or religious meet- ings ; in short, your feet shall carry you but where it pleases us to send you. We will rule the motion of your arms ; in the days assigned by us they shall lift up for labor or shall fall again for rest. At one time we will cause sweat to overspread your face, so hard will be your labor ; and at another time we will spare the expense of your strength. You shall bring and lay in our hands tne product of your activ- ity : we will divide it into two parts the one shall be ours ; it shall be sacred ; you shall call it tithe, ; we will foretake it : we will adjudge to you the second part, in the use of which you shall obey our will and in- structions. As to the faculties of your soul, your 244 PAUL AND JULIA. memory shall reject any recollection declared by us sinful. Your intellect shall have but such thoughts ; your hearts will be allowed such feelings and forbid- den such others. Your will shall bend itself passively to ours. In short, you shall abdicate your individual- ity. Men, to speak briefly, you shall lose so com- pletely your souls in ours, that your bodies will be but machines obeying and serving our will." ' " Paul, I beg leave to ask you if to ascribe to God such words and such a will is not blasphemy. And still, this is the doctrine which the prelates, monks, and priests of the Romish church hold and preach." " Isram," Paul answered, " it is the cry of my rea- son ; but I am not allowed, or at least am afraid, to use it freely. It would be a great crime for me ; the penalty would be endless punishment." On this answer of Paul Isram appeared afflicted ; he mourned over the tomb of an endeared soul lying, dead to light, in the coffin of the sacerdotal and mona- chal slavery, and buried in the deep grave of prejudice. Fearing to have hurt the feelings of Paul, he said to him, " Pardon, young Greek, if, relating the conversation *hat I had with my father, and the reflections of my own which I have imparted to you, I have injured your belief, and withal disturbed your conscience. I will henceforth avoid speaking of your church." " Isram," Paul responded, " though I do not think as you do, I am aware of your intentions and of your good will towards me." Isram continued : * But I must not lose sight of my narrative. I re- PATJL AXD JULIA. 245 sume the thread of my conversation with my father. He said to me, " ' My son, sinc^ you acknowledge that in the Romish church, which is the most numerous among Christians, the prelates, even the priests and monks, are not better than are our calrahs and sultans, tell me how the real- ization of the Christian frater lity is possible.' " ' My father,' I answered, ' the time is come wherein the disciples of Christ will shake off the yoke of all these tyrants of the Romish church, that pretended only true church of Christ, not only of the prelates, priests, and monks, but even of kings and emperors who support them. Ignorance, fanaticism, and super- stition will melt before the sun of the emancipation of intellect, of the flight of genius, of the gigantic devel- opment of the human mind, and of social progress ; the acknowledgment of freedom of thought in politics, science, doctrine, and religion spreads its beams every where, and will shortly overflow the universe ; sceptres are broken into dust ; thrones fall to the earth ; their fragments are used for bonfires, and the wind carries their ashes into the air ; of them remains nothing but mournful and hateful recollections. Even the sword of the Goliath of the army hostile to men and God, the pope, is dull. In vain he threatens and handles it ; he does not dare strike, for its blow would not wound ; ignorance alone sharpened once its point and blade ; in vain he defies and mocks the combatants of the gospel, of the holy cause of mankind and of God ; the Lord will commission a David, who will stone and cast him down, will behead him, will triumphantly bring his head to the holy army, and will leave his 21* 246 PAUL AXD JTTLIA. monstrous corpse lying in the mire of his crimes, and the scalpel of history will dissect his vital elements. Of him shall remain but the pestilential odor of the numberless crimes against mankind and God which he has heaped for so many centuries. The pope tries again to appear before men as reaching from earth to heaven ; but he is now merely the great image that appeared to Nebuchadnezzar. His head is of fine gold ; his breast and his arms are of silver, his belly and his thighs of brass, his legs of iron, but his feet part of iron and part of clay. We shall see that a stone will shortly be cut out of the mountain without hands, and will smite the image upon his feet, that are of iron and clay, and will break them to pieces. Then will the iron, the clay, the brass, the silver, and the gold be broken to pieces together, and will become like the chaff of the summer threshing floor ; and the wind will carry them away, that no place may be found for them ; and the stone that shall have smote the image will become a great mountain, and will fill the whole earth. What will this stone be ? Christ. What will be this mountain, filling the world ? The reign of Christian fraternity. *' ' My father, is not the building of tyranny shaken in all its frames ? Are not its crashings resounding to the farthest limits of the globe ? Behold ! And you will see entire walls disunited and moving. Hark ! Do you not hear how, in their fall, they thunder to the ears and shake the whole building ? Light and darkness, knowledge and ignorance, true worship and superstition, oppressors and oppressed fight in deadly strife. God blesses the holy cause ; tyranny is ago- PAtTL AND JULIA. 247 uizing ; the hour will shortly come when the true wor- shipper shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth, when men shall observe this maxim of Christ, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind: this is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it : Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." In one word, the hour will shortly come when all the countries of the world will rest their con- stitutions on this divine base all men are brethren ; when all nations will consider themselves as provinces of the universal nation - - mankind ; and will be for- ever tied to each other by this Christian constitution, as short as it is perfect and divine all men are brethren. Then the seed of mustard, spoken of by Christ, will have grown, and, though the least of all seeds, will have become a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof ; that is, the gospel will have grown and become a tree, so that the whole human family shall be fraternally united and sheltered under its foliage ; and still it was the least of all doctrinal seeds; it had been sown in a narrow land of the earth, and had in growing been for centu- ries overloaded with the dry and dead branches of hu- man institutions, and with the parasite plants of the prelates, priests, and monks united to absorb its nour- ishment. " ' And in what manner has the tree of the gospel grown and become tall, large, and immense, so that it shelters all the members of the human family ? By cut> ting off from the trunk the prelates, monks, and priests, 248 PAUL AND JUXIA. and all the sacerdotal inventions, which are injurious to the tree either by absorbing the food of the useful branches or hindering them from enlarging.' " ' My son, should your language be true, should Islamism be the misfortune of society, you ought not to be a Christian ; a son is never allowed to aban- don the religion of his ancestors.' " ' My father, were our forefathers right in adopting the new religion established by Mahomet ? ' " ' Certainly, because Mahomet was commissioned by God to establish it.' " ' My father, I believe that Jesus Christ, but not Mahomet, held from God his mission. Islamism, with me, is error ; Christianity is truth : I embrace it.' " ' At least, save the appearances ; act as if you were a disciple of the prophet ; be present in the assemblies of believers.' " ' I owe myself to my conviction. On my part, it would be cowardice.' " ' Then you renounce honors ? * " Yes, my father.' " ' The good will and favor of the emperor ? ' " ' Yes, my father ; they would cost me too much,' " ' You consent to quit your country ? ' " ' Yes, if it is necessary.' " ' Do you forget that death is the penalty of an. apostate ? ' " I know it.' " ' And you brave it ? ' " ' A Christian does not fear death. He abhors tyranny, disdains despots, and holds life dear only when he enjoys liberty.' PAUL AND JULIA. 249 " ' Your doctrine does not forbid you to love your father, and obey him? ' " ' On the contrary, it directs me to do so.' " ' Very well. I then command you, in the name of my paternal authority, to renounce Christianity, and to become again a disciple of the prophet.' " ' My father, you are not allowed by your paternal rights to impose upon me a religious conviction.' " 'And you resist ? ' " ' It is my duty.' " ' And you do not dread my wrath ? And you defy my vengeance ? ' " ' My father, were I permitted to obey your will, I would yield to filial love, but not to your vengeance.' " ' From this hour you are no longer my son. You are in my eyes less than a slave. I will not reveal your apostasy to the emperor, for my name would be sullied if your head rolled under the cimeter. But I know what to do.' " Young Greek, my father called then his guard. They chained and dragged me to the dungeon where the rebel slaves were imprisoned. The next day, sol- diers entered, and demanded to spaak with my father. They came from the emperor to make inquiries about my apostasy, of which Borne one had given him intel- ligence. It was said to me that he was exasperated, because I was one of his favorites, and that he intended to execute upon me an exemplary and cruel vengeance. I know not if it was by the order of my father, though I suspect it, but during the following night, I was released from my chains, led to a ship bound for Anapa, end embarked. 250 PAUL AND JULIA. " I spent some time in Anapa, but was finally com pelled to leave the city, being pursued even there by the wrath of the emperor, who wished to have me de- livered into his hands. Having met in the wilderness with a colony of the tribe of Ossetes, who were at war with another colony, they took me into their ranks, chose me for their chief, and defeated their enemies. Since I have been among them, I have never heard of my father, though I have inquired often about him." " Isram," asked Paul, " why did you remain on these mountains ? " " From gratitude for the tribe," Isram responded, " and chiefly to moralize and civilize them. I have married, lived long years, whitened, and shall die among them. Now, young Greek, you know what you desired to know of the history of my long life." " Venerable chief," Paul said, " of what tyranny you have been the victim ! For truth you have re- nounced the court of the emperor ; quitted your coun- try, your father ; you have faced death, and passed your life on these mountains, far from civilized Europe, in the midst of a savage people. O, you have suffered much more than I ! Your example gives me courage. I know now that truth has no country on earth ; that a just man is always persecuted ; that the thorns which crowned Christ prick the heart of his disciples. I un- derstand that for them this prophecy is realized : ' I am come to send fire on the earth The father shall be divided against the son, and the son against the father.' Isram, though fear hinders me from partak- ing of your religious belief, which still would answer so well the dictates of my reason, and the propensitie* PAUL AND JULIA. 251 of my heart, I must admire the amelioration you have effected among the Ossetes. However, what astonishes me is, that they have not yet been Chris- tianized." " Young Greek," Isram answered, " it is but slowly that people change their habits ; it is still more slowly they quit the religion they have been taught in their infancy. Ah ! if the innumerable Romish priesthood, instead of preaching an anti-Christian, anti-human, and anti-social gospel, would preach, in word and example, the doctrine of Christ ; if the more enlightened and more true apostles of the gospel, and the preachers of the true word of Christ, limited not their zeal ; if they were convinced that the Christian religion ought not to be encircled in some countries ; if they compre- hended, theoretically and practically, that the will of Christ is, that all men be brothers ; if, as Christ did, they carried in their wombs, with a boundless love, all the members of the human family to give them a spiritual birth, the light of the gospel would shine to igno- rant and barbarous nations, and soon the entire uni- verse woiild rise up, would emerge from darkness, and would rejoice in this light ; would march to knowledge, to civilization, to virtue, and to happiness. The word of Christ would be the guaranty of their success. He said to his apostles, ' Go ye therefore and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.' " These last words made a deep impression upon Paul. The following days he spent in solitude, for the strug- gle was renewed in his mind and in his heart. 252 FAUL AND JULIA. CHAPTER XXXIII. CHASE. PAULS RESOLUTION. NE morning an extraordi- nary event happened in the valley. Hunters coming from the mountains car- ried with shouts of triumph a monstrous bear ; an ar- row was buried in his flank. The echoes of the valley re- peated, " Praise and honor to Julia and Paul ! She is as beautiful as flow- ers, and as valiant as the chief of our warriors ! He is the handsomest among the youths of the valley, and though a stranger, the boldest among the hunters ! She broke his chains, and he preserved her life ! He is worthy of Julia, worthy of Isram, worthy of the Ossetes ; let him be assistant of Isram in the government of the tribe." The shepherds left their flocks, the laborers the fields, the Ossetines deserted the cottages ; all rushed and united their merry songs and shouts of joy to those of the hunters. When they arrived at the cottage of Isram, they presented to him the monstrous bear, say- ing, that the arrow plunged in his flank had sprung from the bow of Julia ; that the animal wounded had PAUL AND JULIA. 253 in his fury seized, thrown down, and pressed Julia with his strong paws ; that Paul, seeing her danger, ran, attacked the bear, rescued Julia, pierced and killed him with a couteau de chasse. " He is worthy of Julia, worthy of you, worthy of the Ossetes," they exclaimed ; " let him be your assistant in the government of the tribe." Isram thanked Paul, who, alas ! though happy in having preserved the life of Julia, concealed under his smile the deepest agitation in his mind and the deep- est sorrow in his heart. He kissed Julia with a paternal pride and affection, and expressed to the tribe his sen- timents of gratitude. The heart of Isram was filled with joy. He said to himself, " Paul loves Julia, Julia loves Paul. The tribe cherish him, and gave him to me to help my old age. My son is dead ; he will replace him at my fire- side, and in my heart. He will be the prop of my old age ; will receive my last breath, and close my eyes. I will depart from this life without anxiety, for I shall not leave my dear Julia alone ; he will make her happy." Alas ! he was mistaken. He found Julia alone weep- ing bitterly. He asked her what was the cause of her tears ; but her only answer was, " I shall never more live one happy day." He then went to Paul, who thought- fully walked in the orchard back of the cottage. " Paul, not only your wishes will be satisfied, your love crowned, but you are called by the people to par- take with me in the government of the tribe. I con- gratulate you." Alas ! " ' What, Paul, and you axe not happy ? " 22 254 PAUL AND JULIA. Paul sighed. " Speak, Paul." " I am the unhappiest man on earth." " I am astonished at what you say. Why say you that you are the unhappiest man on earth ? " " Because I may not remain on these mountains, de- vote myself to the tribe, be your son, live and die with Julia, the best beloved of my heart." " You may not ! And why ? " " I am not permitted it." " By your conscience ? " " Yes, venerable chief." " You believe then that you would sin against God, do you ? " "Yes." " Paul, you know my good will and affection for you ; explain without restraint for what reasons you think so." " Venerable chief, while I am on these mountains, I heap every day sin upon sin." " What are you doing wrong? " '' I am forbidden to love Julia, and in spite of my will I yield to love. I am forbidden to love my family, and I love you as if you were my father. God calls me to the religious life, and I live far from the convent. I have vowed celibacy, and I think of marriage. I have sworn obedience to my superiors, and I do not live under their direction. I owe to the ministers of Jesus Christ the same respect I owe to God, and I have listened to your blasphemies against them. I am bound to believe their record as the word of God him- self, and I have not closed my ears to your attacks PAUL AND JULIA. 255 against their teaching. I am obliged to consider you as a heathen and a publican, and I live under the same roof. I am compelled by the laws of my holy church to kill you, since you are a heretic, an enemy of the church of Christ and of his gospel ; and far from curs- ing you, my heart feels a boundless gratitude and de- votedness. You contribute to the prosperity of the Os- setes tribe, but ck> nothing for their souls, for you are not in the pale of the church of Christ, wherein you could be saved, and would save your people. Besides, with you I forget that God calls me to work out the salvation of souls. Therefore my sins exceed in num- ber the hairs of my head ; I feel the weight of my prevarications upon my conscience. I must return to Naples, kneel before my spiritual father, confess these sins, receive the holy absolution that will cleanse my soul, and thus enter again into my divine calling. These are, venerable chief, the sins which I have committed on these mountains ; these are the reasons which oblige me to leave the tribe ; to bid you, my endeared father, and Julia, the too beloved of my heart, an eter- nal adieu." " Dear Paul, does your reason inform you that you are guilty of these pretended sins and obligations ? " " Certainly not. But I must stifle the voice of my reason, believe and obey exclusively and blindly the teaching of the priests." " When I recollect the history of your past life, I *m not astonished at it. I will not attempt to show you how far tte prejudices of your early education have led you in the labyrinth of error, for I am con- vinced that, unfortunately for you, years and your own 25G PAUL AND JULIA. experience will enlighten you. I will not attempt to represent to you the affliction of Julia, whose despair will break down the life of her old grandfather. Alas ! your prejudices have resisted filial love; every other love they can withstand. Yet let me say to you, that all that your mother spoke to you is true ; that you have been misled, deceived, and blinded by the priests ; that, so far as I know you, I must judge that after a while you will see light ; but I am afraid it will be too late for your happiness. Keep well in your mind my last words, for they are those of an old man who has studied the priests, Romanism, the gospel, society, the human mind, and heart. " Since you believe that it is to you an obligation of conscience to leave us, and to return to Naples, re- ceive from my hands the means to go there. I will give you a guide who shall accompany you to Anapa. If ever, when light shines into your eyes, your heart wants to live on these mountains, come again to share the fireside of Julia, and of her old grandfather." " Isram, your words are a spear transpiercing my heart. Why am I not allowed to yield to what I feel for your tribe, and chiefly for you and my too dear Julia?" " I deplore your prejudices, but I know and prize your sentiments. My best wishes will accompany you." " But can you forgive me ? " " Knowing as I do the perplexity of your mind, 1 not only forgive you, but indulge you in your resolu- tion." " Will Julia forgive me ? " PAUL AKD JULIA. 257 " Certainly ; and what you shall suffer from the priests will increase her sufferings and love." " Good Heavens ! " " To spare to her the bitterness of the separation, I will give her the intelligence of your departure only in a few days, and present to her your farewell." " God ! how unhappy I must he on earth ! " Isram called for a guide, and soon after he was bless- ing with a trembling voice Paul, who, pale, in extreme agitation, and shedding bitter tears, was thanking him, bidding him adieu, and whispering these words : *'Poor, and too beloved Julia ' " 22* 258 PAUL AND JULIA. CHAPTER XXXIV. DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE TRIBE OF OSSETES BY PAUL'S DEPARTURE. [HE tribe rejoiced. The old men said to each other, " We now can live our last days, and die in peace ; our sons and grandsons will see happy days ; they will have for governor a chief worthy of Isram." The young men repeated the praises of Paul, add- ing, " He is the boldest of the hunters ; he will be our chief in our chases. He is valiant ; he will lead us to the field of battle, when we shall fight to defend our cottages. He is industri- ous ; he will guide us in the culture of our lands. He is wise ; he will bring peace, union, and happiness among families, and to our firesides. Julia loves him ; he will be the son of our beloved governor." The young Ossetines whispered, " He loves Julia, and he is the handsomest of the young men of the valley ; Julia will be proud of him, and happy." The old men had already assigned the day of the in- stallation of Paul in his office of assistant of Isram. It was to be a fete for the tribe, and great rejoicings were PAUL AXD JULIA. 259 to take place. The people, who noticed that Paul accompanied Isram no more in his visits to families, inquired of each other where he was ; but nobody knew. They asked Isram, and he did not answer plainly. Many days had passed away, and Paul was net seen in the valley. Then Isram gave them the in- telligence of his departure. To praises and affection succeeded a general indignation against Paul. All vociferated against him words of malediction. Never- theless, when Isram informed them that he had ap- proved him in his resolution of leaving the valley ; that, in spite of his devotedness to the tribe, he had been obliged to obey imperious circumstances calling him to Naples ; and that he had blessed him before his departure, they changed their maledictions into benedictions. As to Julia, when Isram, in a tone of the deepest affliction, presented to her the farewell of Paul, she, with the accent of despair, and with trem- bling lips, said, " I had read in his looks that I should never more live a happy day. My life is cut down as a plant by the scythe." 26? PAUL AND JUT.TA. CHAPTER XXXV. PAUL IN NAPLES. HE CALLS UPON THE REVEB- END FATHER FRANCIS. WO months after, Paul was knocking at the door of his monastery in Naples. " What will you ? " asked the porter. " To be introduced to the reverend father supe- rior," he answered. "Who are you?" " Brother Paul Basi- los." " You are Brother Paul Basilos ; but you do not wear the religious habit." " It matters not." " Probably you are mis- You do not belong to our convent." " I certainly am not mistaken." " I have never heard of a monk of our order named Brother Paul Basilos." " I left the convent a long time ago." " To go where ? " " To Russia, with Father Ignatius." " I have never heard of Father Ignatius, of whom you speak." taken. PAUL AND JTTtTA. 261 " I am surprised at what you say." " Who sent you there? " " The reverend father superior." " How long since you left this convent ? " " Several years." " I understand now why I am not acquainted with you, and have not heard of Father Ignatius. I lived nt that time in another convent of our order. You will find a great change in the persons of the convent. The reverend father superior died, and has been re- placed by Reverend Father Francis." " Reverend Father Francis ? " " Yes." " Please let him know that I wish to see him." " I was just going to his apartment to call for him. "Wait a moment in the parlor." " I will." While Paul was alone in that hall, which recalled to his mind so many thoughts, bitter recollections and painful reflections heaved upon his soul. He remem- bered his mother falling on the pavement which was under his eyes ; all his past sufferings in the convent ; the church which had been the cradle of his love ; the streets and squares of the city wherein he looked for Julia ; and the country around Naples, which he had explored so often in his solitary rambles. He thought of his departure from the convent ; of his mother fall- ing, fainting, and perhaps dying on the quay of Con- stantinople ; of his shipwreck ; of the long year spent among barbarous people, having charge of their flocks ; of his captivity ; chiefly of the tribe of the Ossetes ; of his deliverance, of Isram, of Julia, and of the tinie spent 262 PAtri, AND JtriiA. at their fireside; of his departure, with its circum- stances. He saw, before his eyes, the image of Julia, dying in her sorrow and despair. His soul was ab- sorbed and agitated by these thoughts, recollections, and reflections, when Father Francis walked into the parlor, embraced him, and, after the usual salutations of the monks, led him to his apartment. Paul expressed the pleasure he felt to see him again, and then recounted to him all his adventures. Father Francis listened to him with the greatest attention ; and when Paul ceased to speak, he said to him, " Brother Paul, I congratulate you for the marks of predilection with which God, in his mercy, has favored you. He has strengthened you against your mother ; preserved you from the waves, especially from the im- pious doctrines of the chief of the Ossetes' tribe, and from the seductions of the woman that viper which has won your heart. But, alas ! how innumerable have been your offences against God ! how right you were in saying to Isram, that you heaped in his house sins upon sins ! Fall, then, to my feet, that I may give you the holy absolution." Paul having confessed his sins and received absolu- tion, Father Francis said to him, " Now, Paul, you are reconciled with God ; go and quit your secular dress, to take again your holy religious habit ; begin a retreat of nine days, to shake off the dust of your feet, to make penance of your sins ; and then you shall com- mence your theological studies, that you may, when worthy of it, be ordained a priest. I authorize you, as a reward, to live among the fathers of the convent, though, according to the rule, you should be amon the scholastics." PAUL AND JULIA. 263 According to the order of the superior, Paul conse- crated nine days to prayer and penance ; then studied theology. A few months passed away, and Paul was no longer the same man. Seeing the trifling and absurd proofs put forth by Bonacina, Tornelli, Vasquez, St. Thomas, Suarez, etc., all the great divines, to advocate the doctrines of Popery ; hearing the in- famous treatises of morals of these and other theo- logians ; reading the subversive and obscene works of the casuists; witnessing every day the monks haunt- ing inns, taverns, houses of ill fame ; seducing young ladies, nuns, and even married women ; coming to the convent drunk ; and mingling with the lowest vices prayer, mass, and other practices of worship, his doubts increased. He thought that all his mother and Isram had said to him of the misconduct and scandals of the Romish clergy being true, perhaps what they had said of the doctrines of the church was true also ; so much so that his theological studies shook his faith. These reflections excited indignation in his soul, for the sad recollection of what he had suffered, and of what he had caused his mother, Isram, and Julia to suffer, assailed his memory, excited his regrets, and inflamed his love. In vain Father Francis, to whom he confessed these sins of doubt, used the hot iron of blind obedience, and inflicted upon him the most hu- miliating and austere penances ; his doubts became stronger, and were about to change in his mind into certainty, as the power of his reason was growing in the midst of his internal conflicts. Father Francis seeing that the vow of blind obedi- 264 PAUL AND JULIA. ence was no longer for Paul a sacred bond ; that being tied by this sole obligation of conscience, his mind would be sooner or later emancipated, would see light, and then would shake all at once the monastical and Romish belief and practices, he yielded to necessity, and undertook to resolve by reasoning the objections of Paul, He then discussed often with him. 3PA.TTL AND JTTLIA.. 265 CHAPTER XXXVI. BISCLOSUBES, ten o'clock, one evening, the hour fixed by Father Francis, who, usually meet- ing with Paul in the morn- ing, had forgotten both the hour and the appointment, Paul knocked at his door, and believing that he heard the usual answer of his supe- rior, " Walk in," he went in ; and O, surprise ! he saw a young woman, who, at the sight of Paul, tried to con- ceal herself, and exclaimed, *' What J Francis, you have not locked the door ! " " I forgot it, dear Rosa," Reverend Father Francis responded. " But do not trouble yourself; this friar does not know you." She rose up with anger, arrayed herself in her male costume, and, murmuring some words of fury, not listening to Father Francis, who tried to calm her, even without looking at him, left the room, glided noise- lessly along retired corridors, opened a night door, and went out. At the sight of that woman, Paul remained aa motionless as if he had been thunderstruck. When 23 266 PAUL AND JULIA. she was about to leave the room, he rushed to the door in a sudden start, and walked out. "Where are you going, Paul? " Father Francis said to him. " Stay here." On the injunction of his superior, Paul remained. Pale, his eyes cast down, his hands folded in the wide sleeves of his religious gown, he retired into a corner of the room, and took a seat. He appeared thoughtful. Whilst Father Francis was getting up, and carelessly, slowly dressing himself, he was plunged in deep reflec- tion. Afterwards he walked to and fro in the room, and presently he said to Paul, with a strange smile, " Brother Paul, the part which for several years I have played with you must end. Now my comedy is over. Let us spend the night talking, for I have much to say to you." Paul, who, recollecting all that his mother and Isram had said to him, suspected what would be the subject of conversation, answered, " I will." " As I know your discretion, and devotedness to me, I will speak to you freely about many things which I know will interest you." " I shall be very glad of it." " You probably were surprised when you saw that young woman." "Yes." " Did you believe that I lived like an anchorite ? " " Certainly." " You know now that you were greatly mistaken." " Yes." PAUL AND JULIA. 267 "Do you think that that woman is handsome ? " " I believe she is." " In fact she is so. You seem astonished at my lan- guage." " It cannot be otherwise." " I understand it : such language from me is so strange for your ears. You find it a little different from my former way of speaking to you ? " " Quite so." Paul, who intended to avail of this opportunity to inform himself, and take a strong and decisive resolu- tion, tried to conceal his feelings of contempt and indignation. He thus answered briefly, but with po- liteness. " Then, Paul, you think that that woman is beau- tiful ? " " Yes." " "What would you say, then, of several young la- dies who favor me with their visits ? They truly are charming." " Indeed ! " " They are infinitely handsomer than that woman. I receive her by charity ! " And the father laughed. " Is she married ? " " Yes. She is the wife of Viscount Forra But I must stop ; it is useless to point out her name." " And her husband is not aware of her misconduct ? " " Not at all. He loves her to jealousy ; but she dis- likes him now as much as she loved him when they married." " In this case, he suspects her infidelity? " "No. I prudently told her to dissemble, and to 268 PAUL AND JUJLIA. show tc him tenderness and love. Thus, il fCy voit que du feu." " Still, as she visits you often, he ought to no- tice it." " Of course ; but he does not draw the true infer- ence. He is very much pleased with her visits to me, for I am her confessor, and the director of her con- science. He naturally believes that I restrain her from loving another man ; and as she confesses twice, and takes sacrament four times, a week, he is convinced that she is one of the most virtuous and pious ladies of the congregation. Besides, I am his own confessor, and he trusts in me fully." " He ought to know that she sometimes does not spend the night at home." " Certainly not. She has, by my counsels, per- suaded him to buy a country house. He has to go often to attend to the business, and he spends the night there. Then she comes incognito to visit me. More- over, when I confess her, as you easily understand, we talk freely, and meet in the vestry, where we are with- out a witness. As to the young women whom I prefer to her, I see them oftener." " Are they women of education and social respecta- bility?" " Several of them are." " Their parents and acquaintances probably suspect their bad behavior ? " " No ; because they come to me to confess and take sacrament many times a week. They, on the contrary, are considered as pious and virtuous young ladies. They have many lovers, and of the highest standing ; PAUL AXP JULIA. 269 but on account of me, they refuse to marry ; which is, of course, displeasing their families, but they remain faithful to me ; it is all I will. Even their poor lovers come to mo with folded hands, supplicating me and giv- ing me money, that I may take their interest, and plead their cause with them. I promise it of course, but I am not short sigh'ed enough to fulfil my promise." " In what manner did you win the love of all these women ? " " By confession. It is an infallible means. I am a good spider to spread my web and catch the flies." "O!" " As you see, Brother Paul, I am a great sinner." When he pronounced these words, an impious and licentious smile was delineated on his lips. " Yes, Father Francis," Paul answered. " You have confessed to me so many times, that I must once confess to you." Saying so, he laughed aux eclats. Such cynicism and impiety stirred up in Paul so much horror and indignation, that, lest he should hurt Fa- ther Francis, he did not answer, but asked him, " Is the behavior of the fathers of the convent like yours ? " " Brother Paul," Father Francis responded, " if heretofore I have spoken to you so plainly, it is because I intend to choose you for my friend, and to appoint you, as soon as you shall be ordained a priest, to one of the highest dignities of our order. I will now say to you all about our convents. We have three classes of monks, viz., the rascals, the blind, and the initiated. The rascals are those friars who are drunk- 23* 270 PAUL AND JULIA. ards, taunt the inns, taverns, bar rooms, and houses of prostitution. The blind are those who, as you have done to this day, believe and practise what they are taught by the superiors. The initiated, are those who, having been emancipated from the belief and practices im- posed upon them, either by the strength of their own reason or by the good will of the superior, as I do now towards you, behave themselves exactly as I do. They still have to observe carefully appearances." " By what means can women penetrate into their rooms ? " " The porter has the watchword. To avoid scandal they take a male costume. Besides, we have many doors in the garden used, it is said, to cultivate it; but the truth is, they are night doors. Moreover, the confes- sional and the vestry are very convenient for purposes of that kind. Suppose, even, that in several circum- stances these means cannot be used ; these women feign they are sick, and want their confessors ; then noth- ing is easier than to meet them in their rooms without a witness." " O Father Francis, I should never have suspect- ed it." " Still, except very few who are what you have been, those monks are the best of the convents. As to the others, they are worse than brutes. They imitate those men of whom St. Paul said, ' Wherefore God also gave them up to uncleanness through the lusts of their own hearts, to dishonor their own bodies between themselves. Even they go further in their brutish desires, for they use * * *." PATTI. A^'D JULIA. 271 ** Then, Father Francis, tell me sincerely what you think of the vows of religion." " This is the truth. They are mere traps." " Why then be so anxious to find novices, and impose these vows upon their consciences as strict bonds ? " " Your question calls me on another ground, viz. : by whom and why have religious orders been established, (by religious orders I do not mean the Christian asso- ciations of the first centuries.) They have been estab- lished by the popes. And why ? To support him and advocate his interests all over the world. What is our Roman Catholic church, or Popery ? It is a system of ignorance, idolatry, superstition, and tyranny. What is the clergy ? The army of the pope. The cardinals, patriarchs, generals of religious orders, archbishops, and bishops are the great officers of that army. The superiors of convents, the grand vicars of the bishops, the canons, chaplains, and archpriests, are the officers of the great officers. The common monks are the guard of honor and of safety of the general in chief, and the common secular priests are the soldiers. The nuns are another portion of the army. They have their great officers, viz., the general superiors of their various orders, which great officers have also their offi- cers, viz., the superiors of their houses, schools, and so on. " The pope is general in chief of the army. The great officers, common officers, and soldiers must obey him passively and blindly. He established this army in the name of the temporal welfare and spiritual in- terests of the human family ; in the name of the gos- 272 FAUX AXD JTTTTA. pel of Christ and of God, but to oppose the temporal welfare and spiritual interests of the human family j to oppose the gospel ; to war against Christ and God, Lest this army might be dissolved by the people when they see how injurious they are to mankind, what deadly enemies they are to the gospel, to Christ, and to God, he makes the nuns, priests, monks, and some subaltern dignitaries, believe that obeying passively and blindly- either himself or the cardinals, patriarchs, generals of religious orders, etc., they obey God himself. As to those who among them would be intelligent enough to- penetrate his selfish, tyrannical, anti- Christian, and im- pious views-, he promotes them to dignities. Lest r being conscientious, they desert the ranks of his army T and speak the truth to the too credulous people who are his victims, he seduces them in enabling them to awim in money j. to be honored ; to satisfy their pride and selfishness, all the brutish desires of their bodies. When they have been through these means won to his interests, he lets them know the watchword of his sa- cred quackery. Moreover, lest they betray him after having been won, he has united to the great of the world, to kings, and emperors. He has said to them, * Let us pass a contract of association. Man is a wolf to his fellow-men. The people are a mine ; let us work it, and partake of the benefit. Lend me your material power, your sword, and I will lend you my spiritual omnipotence, my divine sword.' They agreed, and sanctioned their alliance by an oath. Hence all the dignitaries of the Papal army, when unveiling the quackery of the pope, are considered by the great of the world, kings, and emperors, as their own enemies ; PAUL AND JULIA. 273 they are condemned to fines, prisons, banishment, and scaffolds. Besides, the pope has his secret band of murderers, who, in the dark, poniard or poison them. " Now, Brother Paul, I answer directly to your ques- tion. You asked me why we are anxious to find npv- ices, and impose upon them, as strict bonds of con- science, the vows of religion, which are, I said to you, a mere trap. You ought to understand that we want, not only to recruit, but to increase our Papal army ; that the various religious orders should people their houses of novitiate, and the bishops their sem- inaries." " Father Francis, what you say of the pope, of the regular and secular clergy, makes me desirous to ad- dress you many questions. Am I permitted it ? " " Certainly." " Are the nuns immoral? " " They are more cautious than the monks, and give rise to fewer scandals." " Have they sometimes amorous relations with the monks ? " " It is their daily bread." " Are they allowed to enter the convents to see them? " " They, of course, are forbidden it by the rule ; but this is for pretence. They disguise thejnselves, and have the keys of the night doors of the convents." " All of them do not entertain criminal relations with the monks do they ? " " Some of them do not. For instance, the cloistered nuns. I do not mean the superiors, for they hold the keys of their houses." 274 PAUL AND JULIA. " Are the common cloistered nuns virtuous ? " " Many of them are chaste, but others are not Their imagination being inflammable and kindled by solitude, they hold in disgust the practices of devotion ; regret what they left in the world, the praises, regards, and adorations, Avhich they reaped in society ; and see- ing their beauty fading in obscurity within the walls of a cloister, they fall into despair, and give up to unlawful desires. They love unnaturally each other ; entertain among themselves a monstrous love, and give themselves to incredible, degrading, and brutish practices. This is what the ascetic authors term peculiar friendship. Be sure that when they meet with their ordinary and ex- traordinary confessors they have a good time. They are practically taught how to pluck up the rose with- out being pricked by its thorns ! " And the father laughed. " Father Francis, what you say is so surprising, so incredible, that, should any one else inform, me about it, I could not believe it." " Yet I do not exaggerate." " Are, then, no cloistered nuns virtuous ? " " Many of them are, particularly those who are not handsome. Some others indulge to low desires on the children whom they educate but cautiously, lest parents, becoming aware of it, should recall their chil- dren, and cease to patronize their schools." " O, horrible ! " " Have you noticed that, wherever you see a nun- nery, there is a convent in the vicinity ? What would the moon do without the sun ? " The father accompa- nied these last words with an expressive smile. PA.UI, AND JT7LIA. 275 " Is the money of the monks and of the nuns in common ? " " Yes ; but we do not let the people know-it." " How can the monks and the nuns make so much money ? They are immensely rich." " As to the monks, they try to have novices from the wealthiest families, and pocket their patrimonies. They say to the people that they have vowed poverty, are not rich, and despise fortune ; that the more money they shall give to them in the name of the Lord, the more they shall be rewarded by God here below and hereafter, according to these words of the gospel : ' And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, He shall in no wise lose his reward.' Thus they are presented by the people with money and other kinds of property ; and the greatest part of their devotees, being rich, give them a large amount of money. Being the confessors of many wealthy old bachelors, old maids, old widows and wid- owers, they say to them that they hold the key of par- adise, and that, if they bequeath to them their inher- itances, they will go straight to paradise ; which proposal is always accepted, for these old people are credulous and fanatical. Besides, the monks have estranged them from their families by artful means. Again, they have banks ; they loan large capitals, and deal on a large scale ; which the people do not know, because, to prevent all suspicion, they choose faithful and able worldlings, who in swelling the treasures of the monks do their own business. Add to this the income from indulgences, dispensations, administration 1 276 PAUL AXD JtTZIA. of sacraments, chiefly of absolutions, which they be- stow for money on scandalous ladies ; add the immense amount of collections of money taken in churches and among families, the immense benefit of the sale of medals, scapulars, beads, images, books of mass, of prayers, and of devotion ; add the money which show- ers into the chests put in their churches and at the doors of the convents, what they harvest in preaching novenas, retreats, jubilees, missions, Sunday discourses; what they harvest in replacing the seculur clergy in their pastoral functions, in saying to the devotees and rich women who bring them masses, ' We monks do not receive money, at least privately, for masses,' in order that these faithful, instead of one dollar that they intended to offer, may, being edified by this ad- mirable disinterestedness, give four dollars to the supe- rior of the convent. Finally, add the incalculable treasures which they hoard up by their public schools and colleges ; withal, add to all this that the religious order spend scarcely the seven hundredth of their an- nual revenue. Brother Paul, do you understand now how the monks get rich ? " " Yes ; but I do not understand how they reconcile it with the gospel." " Pooh ! the gospel ! " " Can the nuns make as much money as the monks ? " " No, because they have not the same means at their disposal. They have, to deceive the people, some gratuitous schools, which, notwithstanding, are richly endowed by the munificence of the faithful ; they keep public schools and female seminaries, where- in they get a good deal of money from families, from PAUL AND JULIA. 277 peculiar gifts, from alms, from collections, from sub- scriptions artfully imposed upon their pupils under the pretext of adorning the chapels, etc., and so on. They derive, too, a large income from the monopoly of the needle work ; for, having a great many hands which they are not obliged to pay, they ruin by an irresistible competition the women of the people, whom they de- prive of their daily bread." " In what manner do the monks and nuns gather so many pupils in their public schools and colleges ? " " By means of confession, of their spies, and of the pupils themselves." " By means of confession ! But how is it possi- ble ? " " Nothing is easier. The monks bid their peni- tents, chiefly their devotees, to praise and recommend their schools and colleges among families, and to speak against universities." " You say that they have spies ? " " A cloud of them, and in all classes of society." " For what purpose have they spies ? " " To serve their interests in society." " Are these spies paid by the monks ? " " Not at all." " In that case, how can they find spies ? " " Listen to me. We monks are influential among families, even more influential than the secular clergy. We are able to protect and be useful to all those who enlist themselves in our secret police ; through our influence a magistrate is promoted to dignities, a law- yer monopolizes the business at the bar, a physician gets a large and lucrative practice, a merchant is large- 24 278 PAUL AND JULIA. ly patronized, and so on. Do you understand now, Brother Paul, in what manner we get spies ? " " Yes, Father Francis." "Very well. Now you can, easily understand, too, how these people send a great many pupils to our public schools and colleges. They are compelled not only to send us their sons, and our nuns their daugh- ters, but the children of their friends and acquaint- ances ; for we do for them according to what they do for us." " How can you get a greater number of pupils through your pupils themselves ? " " Knowing that children do not like study, and are fond of amusements, we indulge their wishes, and do not contradict them. Knowing that their mothers are very much pleased when we lavish upon them those thousand little enervating maternal cares, instead of the bread of science, of useful knowledge, we give them plenty of cakes, etc. Knowing, too, that chil- dren like to be publicly praised, by which praises their parents are flattered, we noise abroad that, at the end of our scholastic year, we shall distribute rewards to our pupils ; the people flock together, and a large crowd assist at the solemn ceremony. The children recite, gesticulating on a stage, some fables, some pas- sages of history, etc., comprising pretty nearly all the stock of science which we gave them, and for which their parents paid very dear. To make the parents and the people believe that they have improved, we expose some drawings, some needlework, some writ- ings, and read some literary compositions which are aot their own work. To conceal better our quackery, PAUL AND JULIA. 279 we even announce to the assembly that some of our pupils are ready to sustain publicly an examination in many branches of science which they have studied ; but we choose the less ignorant ; and, lest they should be closely questioned, we give the watchword to the examiners and a short program of a few elementary questions, to which these pupils are able to answer. As, by rewarding only the pupils who are worthy of it, the others and their parents would be displeased, we give them also some reward. Still, lest our distribu- tion of rewards should be considered as a mockery, we prudently debar from the common remuneration the pupils who belong to poor families, or to parents who pay, it is true, the board, but do not bestow upon us peculiar favors and donations, the displeasure of whom, therefore, is of no consequence. " Thus our pupils, and, above all, the young girls of the female seminaries of our nunneries, are pleased with us ; they praise our family care and teaching in the presence of other children ; these children are naturally anxious to attend our schools and colleges ; and their parents esteem themselves happy to accede to their wishes. Besides, as we must, between us, concede that we are far behind the universities in learning and teaching, and that their pupils are better informed than ours because they are bound to a hard and constant labor to be graduated, it is for us of the greatest im- portance to gain and preserve the affection of our pupils. " Brother Paul, you ought to understand now how, through our pupils themselves, we fill our schools and colleges." 280 PAUL AND JULIA. " Since it is so, the convents and nunneries accumu late an immense amount of property?" " They do so. That you may have an idea of it, let us enter my business closet. We will peruse my books and registers, and you will see how wealthy are our convents." Father Francis and Brother Paul rose. " Wait a moment, Brother Paul," said Father Fran- cis. " I must take the key." Having said so, he went to one of the corners of the room. As he touched an invisible spring, an iron plate moved, and he took from a case, dug within the thickness of the wall, a double and heavy brass key. He opened a private door, and both descended a narrow and secret staircase. Father Francis unlocked an iron door, which swung on its hinges as the door of a dungeon, and they entered into the closet. It was a large square, without windows, but lighted by a skylight. From the floor to the ceiling, the walls were covered with joinery, richly wrought upon, and divided inta countless cases, filled with books, registers, rolls of paper, letters, and papers of every kind. Along each side of the square was a desk, overloaded with notes, etc. ; and in the middle, a table was covered with a velvet cloth, ele- gantly' embroidered, before which was a luxuriant elbow chair. " Brother Paul," said Father Francis, " this table is for my use. These desks are for my secretaries, whom I choose among the fathers who are initiated into the secrets of our convent, and are my friends ; you will be in a short time one of them. The cases are with- out tickets, that nobody else can find where are the PATJX AMD JULIA. 281 most important of our papers ; it will take you a fe\r months before you know all about it. The closet is lighted by a skylight, and located in the inner part of the convent, so that strangers, even the fathers of the convent, suspect nothing about its contents. Behold in the thickness of the wall our iron chest." And. saying so, Father Francis opened a secret door, and showed to Paul a great iron chest, wherein, in the low division, lay, close to each other, piles of bank bills, and in the upper a heavy pile of silver and gold, which in moving, he caused sharply to gingle. " This money," Father Francis said, "will not sleep a long while. It is the inheritance of one of my rich devotees, to whom I lately opened paradise. Fine loan, indeed ! A merchant, who is hunted up by his fam- ished creditors, asked this money of one of our agents ; he will pay twenty per cent. : this rate will help the poor devil in becoming bankrupt ; but it is his own affair." Father Francis took then from a case a register in folio, shut up with a clasp and padlock. " This is," he said, opening it, " the summary of the titles of our possessions. Peruse it, and then tell me if we have to fear starvation." Paul perused some hundred pages, and felt such an indignation that he involuntarily whispered, " And the gospel ! " " This book is our gospel," Father Francis answered, with an impious laugh. "O!" " Poor Paul, you were very far from suspecting wnat an easy and sumptuous life you could ttve in this con- rent." 24* 282 PAUL AND JULIA. " O, certainly." " Now give me this book, for I wish you to peruse some others. You should be initiated into the secrets of my closet." Father Francis took the book, sealed and fixed it in its case. He then chose and piled many registers on his table ; seated himself in his elbow chair, and in- vited Paul to take a seat near him. Father Francis said to Paul, on opening one of them, " This one contains the bills of our creditors." And he turned rapidly the leaves, pointing out only the amount of the bills. He added, " You see, Brother Paul, that we have plenty of heavy loans. They afford us a good deal of money ; for the half of them is placed over the legal rate." " But how can you get more than the legal rate ? You expose yourself to be juridically pursued." " We loan our money through agents, who are responsible before the laws." " But they expose themselves ? " " Of course ; but it is not our business." " How can they escape the rigor of the laws ? " " We say to them, when it is a question, for instance, to loan a hundred dollars, to give only ninety, and to compel the borrower to acknowledge in his bill that he received one hundred. Thus they are entitled to ask more than the legal rate." " The debtors make known this artfulness of your agents, do they not ? " " Sometimes. But we are behind the curtain ; we do not care for it. Besides, our agents do good busi- ness; they are above the public opinion." 1PAUI, AND JTTLIA. 283 " With your usury rate you ruin many families ? " " Certainly. But man is in principle and fact a wolf to his fellow-man. The chief thing is to save appearances." " And your preaching against usury ? And the gos- pel? And your vow of poverty?" " All these are for pretence." " O, Father Francis ! " " I understand your astonishment. You are exactly like a prisoner, who, having lived a long- while in a dark dungeon, cannot bear the beams of the sun. Having been so many years in darkness, a brisk tran- sition to light blinds you." Paul did not reply. He appeared thoughtful. His cheeks were crimson. " Let us peruse another register," Father Francis said ; and he took up another. " Ah, this second one is our land book. Peruse it, and judge, by the amount of the annual revenue of our farms, if we have ground enough to be buried." While Paul was cursorily glancing at every page, Father Francis said to him, " I do not show you either our day looks, or our legers, or the many others which fill several shelves. But here is our commercial book. Look at it, and you will tell me whether or not we are successful and smart in business." " Your commercial book ! But you are not mer- chants ? " " Of course we do not keep stores in our own name ; it would be too impolitic ; but we own the goods, and our agents sell them. Tais they easily do, for we send them good customers." PAUL A:ND JULIA. Paul perused the book, Avithout uttering a single word, and without any apparent indignation. Father Francis took up a large register : " Brother Paul," he said, "this is the book which we call the book of hope. Therein are registered the names and amount of the fortunes of the lords, of the richest fam- ilies, of the old bachelors, maids, widowers, widows, and devotees, the favors of which we have to win in order to obtain their protection, their gifts, chiefly their inheritance. See for yourself whether or not the mine is rich, and our prospects brilliant." Paul perused the book with the greatest attention. A bitter recollection seemed to absorb his mind. " Have you done ? " Father Francis said. " Nearly," Paul answered. Father Francis opened two other books. " Paul," he said, " I wish to show you these two books. The one of our schools and colleges ; the other called the sacred look." And he perused them under the eye of Paul, point- ing out the large amount of money which they harvest by means of the schools and colleges of the order ; by means of novenas, retreats, jubilees, missions, sale of beads, medals, images, scapulars, etc. ; by means of mass, confession, and administration of sacrament. Father Francis put them aside, and took up another book, saying, " This one that falls in my hands is our Hack look. It contains the denunciations of the lay friars and monks. Thus I am aware of all that is going on among them." Paul turned away his eyes, and after reading two PAUL AND JULIA. 285 or three pages of it, shut the hook ; for he was afraid to give vent to his displeasure and indignation. " Here is another," Father Francis said. " It is the book of our secret police. All the reports of our lay spies are laid down herein." And, turning the pages, he addea, " Do you see the details of the intrigues which are going on in the courts among emperors, kings, queens, princes, lords, ladies, and courtesans ? Do you see the watchword and conspiracies of certain secret societies against these oppressors of the people, with which oppressors we are associated, and whom we have to support ? Therein is related what is going on in secrecy among the most influential families, and in the sanctuary of their firesides, in all classes of society. Mark, also, how exactly and thoroughly we are in- formed of what is enacted in republics." Afterwards Father Francis took up another book, saying, " This is the second volume of the same book. Af- ter a while you shall read it attentively, so that you may understand and inform yourself on the means which we use to derive benefit from the reports of our spies, and to influence the political, social, and thereby re- ligious events. I say, and thereby religious events, for we take an interest in political and social events only for the triumph of Romanism. Autocracy being our banner, we hate all other forms of government. We hate, with all the fibres of our heart, a republican government, because it exists both from the people and for the people. We hate a constitutional govern- ment, because it smells of democracy. We hate an absolute government, because an absolute king, em- 286 FATTL AND JULIA. peror, or dictator, is a usurper of the rights of the pope, who, we say, is commissioned by God to es- tablish and rule the universal monarchy, viz., to impose upon the body and soul of every man living on earth his arbitrary will. Still we hate less the latter form of government, because it is a step to reach au- tocracy. " You shall study carefully this other book, which is just now open. It will inform you of the means which we use to war against and put down philosophy, the Greek church, and particularly Protestantism, which is our most dreaded enemy ; to disseminate disunion in kingdoms and empires ; to disturb and destroy chief- ly republics." Paul listened to Father Francis with the deepest silence. In spite of his own will, he darted on him fiery looks, which betrayed his feelings. Still, Father Francis, in the distraction of his mind, did not notice it. " Brother Paul," Father Francis said, " the other books which lie on the table are our books of corre- spondence with the convents of our order, with the va- rious religious corporations, with bishops, cardinals, etc. You will peruse them at your leisure moments. I am about giving you now the greatest proof of my affection and trust." And he went to one of the corners of the closet, took from a deep case an iron box, unlocked it, and took out a book. " This is," he said, " our book of confession. We keep registered therein the number, names, amount of fortunes, the gifts, sins, and revelations of the peni- tents whom we confess, whether they are friars, monks, PAUL A3O) JULIA. priests, bishops, cardinals, lords, princes, emperors, or kings." " O Father Francis ! " " Certainly ; and if you have any desire to do so, you can read therein your own sins." And he laid the book down on the table. But Paul did not open it, and asked him, " For what purpose have you such a book? " " What ! you do not suspect it ? " " I suspect something, but probably I am mistaken." " This book enables us to direct individuals, fam- ilies, cities, governments, and society." " Then the confessors reveal to you the confessions of their penitents, do they ? " " Yes." " All of them ? " " Yes. Some of them, those who are initiated as you are now, reveal directly the confessions of their penitents, and, it may be cursorily said, we initiate only the monks who are smart and popular. The others do not reveal directly the confessions of their penitents ; but being bound by the vow of blind obe- dience to answer my questions, they inform me indi- rectly of all about it." " And when you send the fathers to far JULIA. " We are cautious. To deceive the people, and make tliem believe that we are generous to prodigal- ity, we assemble noisily at the doors of our convents, nunneries, seminaries, etc., forty, sixty, or eighty men- dicants, to whom we give a part of the remnants of our dinner. But it is not a heavy sacrifice ; for our dogs, hogs, etc., having plenty of food, we should not know in what other manner to dispose of the remain- der of our meals." ^ " Do you contribute sometimes to the public build- ings or establishments of charity ? " " Peruse all the lists of subscriptions, and I defy you to meet with the name of a monk." " Do you pay taxes ? " " In many countries the governments are irreligious enough to trample upon our rights of exemption ; but in many others they are as respected as they have been for centuries." " In what manner do you justify the luxury of your lives when you are assailed through the press? " " If we are influential with the government, the papers are suppressed or the editors fined and impris- oned. If the press is free, we deny ; we demonstrate, by publishing our rules, that we live modestly and poorly." "When, seeing how fat, commonly, are the popes, cardinals, etc., especially the monks, canons, chaplains, and pri 'sts, your opponents write and speak against your mortifications, what can you reply ? " " Of course it is generally said among the people, ' Fat as a priest,' or ' as a monk ; ' but nothing ia easier than to defend ourselves. We say that fatness PAUL AND JULIA. 301 is an exuberance of health ; that, health being p. bless- ing of God, he grants us this gift because we are his servants." ' Ana the public is satisfied with this justifica- tion ? " " Yes." " And your opponents do not reply that your belly is your god ? " " Yes ; but the people do not listen to them." " What is your answer when they charge you witli idleness ? " " We say that the functions of the sacred ministry keep us incessantly busy." " But the people know that these functions require from you only about one hour a day." " We are not embarrassed on a road so easy. We answer that study fills all the remainder of our time." " They know that you do not study, since, as you say to me, you are so ignorant." "We say that we pray or meditate." " Knowing that your cellars are full of the best wines and liquors, your opponents write against your intemperance do they not ? " " Yes." " What can you reply ? " " What can we reply ? that it is a prodigality of alms ; that we bought these wines and liquors to dis- tribute them among poor families when some of their members are sick." " Do you really distribute these wines and liquors to the poor people when they are sick ? " " No ; we know better than that. When the poor 26 302 PAUL AND JULIA. are sick, all they have to do is to go to the hospi- tal. Ptisan and sirup are their wine and their cor- dials." " Of course ; but I mean the sick, who, being conva- lescent, would be strengthened with some generous wine." " They may drink water if they please." "Thus you would not give a bottle of wine to a poor convalescent ? " " Sometimes we do. But only if we see that he will after a while pay for it, if not in money, at least in working gratis for us." " Since you store so hermetically your wines and liquors in your cellars, the people know that you do not distribute them in alms do they not ? " " They suspect it." " Then your opponents attack you do they not ? " " Their aggression is quite useless ; for we answer that "*e practise this maxim of Jesus Christ : * Therefore, wxien thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet be- fore thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth ; that thine alms may be in secret ; and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly.' " " Seeing your red noses and faces, your opponents accuse you of being drunkards do they not?" " Yes, but we charge them with slander, and make the people believe that our redness arises from our modesty, from the ardor of our piety, from our love PAUL AND JULIA. 303 for God, which, by his holy grace, consumes our hearts." " Are your opponents and the people satisfied with the explanation which you give of your fatness, and of the redness of your noses and faces ? " " Not all of them ; hut we then throw up to their faces these words of Christ, which apparently justify ourselves, and withal accuse them : ' Moreover, when ye fast, be not as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance ; for t'ney disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head and wash thy face, that thou appear not unto men. to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret ; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.' " " The Roman Catholics read the Bible, the books, pamphlets, and periodicals, written by philosophers or Protestants do they not ? " " Certainly not. They are forbidden it under pain of mortal sin and hell. "Were they allowed it, all the Papal system would fall. In fifty years, perhaps, we should have to run all over the world to find one faithful." " Would the philosophical writings be more effica- cious to shake their Catholic faith than the Bible, and the books of the Protestants." " O, no ! " " Why ? " " Because they could not comprehend easily the phil- osophical doctrines ; but, reading and interpreting the Bible for themselves, being aided by the Protestant 304 PAUL AND JULIA. books, they could see immediately the thread of out quackery." " Tell me why so many faithful become sceptic." " Because, being taught by their good sense, and knowing through their observations, what is our church, besides having not read and studied the Bible, they naturally infer that all religions are a mere quackery." " Many faithful become Protestants is it not so ? " "Not many." " And why ? " " For several and strong reasons." " What are they ? " " I have just pointed out one of them." " Which one ? The prohibition of reading and in- terpreting the Bible for themselves ; to read the Prot- estant books, pamphlets, and periodicals ? " " Yes. And it is the strongest ; for you know the Latin adage, "Ignoti nulla cupido " We do not de- sire what we do not know." " What are the others ? " " One of them is the fear of our vengeance, and of our relentless and lasting persecutions. If a Catholic who becomes a Protestant is a merchant, we forbid the Catholics to purchase in his store. Is he a lawyer, we withdraw his clicncy. Is he a physician, we destroy his reputation of a moral, honest, and learned man. Is he a magistrate, we kill him morally in the public opinion. Is he a public officer of the government, we are restless in our intrigues until he be deprived of his employment ; and so on. You ought to understand, Brother Paul, that a man who is not endowed with an heroical energy does not sacrifice to his religious con- PAUL A7TD JTTLTA. 305 yictions his own interests, those of his family, of his wife, and children. Moreover, if he is an influential man, and we thereby fear to lose through him some faithful, ne may be certain that, if we can, he shall be poniarded, or poisoned by our secret murderers." " O Father Francis ! " " It is so." Still ! " " Without it, we could not get along." " But to persecute, to assassinate 1 " " Certainly." "O!" " We must have the instinct of preservation." " What do you mean by instinct of preservation ? " " I mean that we must preserve the existence of our church." " But not by persecuting killing ? " " Remember that, if we do not use intolerance, per- secution, and murder, the faithful will become enlight- ened, will shake off our yoke, and in their indignation will stone us. Keep well in your mind that intolerance, persecution, and murder are as necessary to the pres- ervation of the Papal church as eating to the preser- vation of our body." " What are the other reasons which hinder the Catholics from becoming Protestant ? " " Prejudices of every kind." " What are those prejudices? " " Having been baptized by us, taught our catechism, brought up in the Romish belief, and familiarized with the ceremonies of our church, these first impression? grow up in their minds with years ; and, as you know 26* 306 PAUL ASTD JULIA. it is very difficult to break off the impressions and habits of our infancy. Besides, we have, prudent- ly and successfully, caused to prevail in the public opinion another prejudice which is now strongly rooted." " Which prejudice is it ? " " This it is : the faithful believe that a man cannot be honest, moral, and religious, if he leaves Catholicism. The word apostate sounds through their ears as synon- imous with rascal, scoundrel, etc. They consider a Catholic who becomes a Protestant as a monster, as the most despicable man among them. He loses his ac- quaintances, friends, wife, and children, and has to live alone, avoided and hated by every body. Where are men energetic enough to confront these persecutions, and who, to obey their conscience, will accept such a bitter life ? Of course there are some ; but how rare they are ! " " Are many bishops Protestant by conviction r " " A great many ! " " Are many of them philosophers ? " " The most of them are sceptics." " Then very few among them are sincerely Roman Catholics ? " " Yes. They are the cloaked and the jackasses of the land ; all the others laugh in their sleeves at them." " Does it happen that several of those who do not believe the Romish creed leave the church ? " " No." "And why?" "Because they are immensely rich; have country PAUL AXD JULIA. 307 houses, palaces, livery, equipages ; are more powerful, absolute, and honored than kings ; and withal can sat- isfy all the brutish appetites of their senses." " Since we speak of the secular clergy, allow me to address to you some peculiar questions." " Well." " What do you think of the cardinals ? " " I will speak to you my thought in one word : three quarters of them, not to say more, are not worth the rope to hang them." " O Father Francis, I beg leave to say that you exaggerate." " I do not." " Still ! " " To become cardinals they must have killed father and mother." "O!" " Certainly." " Explain your meaning." " I do not mean that they really have killed their fathers and mothers ; but they ought to have stifled the voice of their conscience, and the feelings of their hearts, so far as to have the courage to kill them, if it was their interest to do so. Of course you did not suspect it ; yet it is the truth." "Is it possible ! " " Perhaps you think, from the harshness of my expressions, that I judge them with too much severity; but you are quite mistaken. They are exactly what I am about to say to you. There are two classes of cardinals those who are scattered all over the coun- tries of the world, and are together archbishops or 308 PAUL AND JULIA. bishops, and those who live in Rome. The former reacn this dignity only through their slavish devotion to kings and emperors, whom they generally betray after- wards if they thwart the interests of the pope. The latter are either bishops, priests, deacons, or subdea- cons, etc., and have been promoted to cardinalships through the meanest political intrigues. " The pope, mimicking the kings and emperors, who call princes their kindred, style the cardinals Princes of the Church. He chooses them from among the richest and most influential families, that they serve more surely and efficaciously his own interests. Still an obscure birth is not an absolute condition of pro- motion ; but, in this case, the candidate ought to be one of the most hypocritically artful and wicked among the disciples of Machiavel. All the cardinals, chiefly those who live in Home, are wonderfully rich. Almost all are anti-Christian in their behavior and belief, and initiated in the most intimate secrets of Popery. Having been nursed in the most refinedly pharisaical doctrines of Romanism, they are pharisees in their bodies and souls. Having been brought up in the bosom of wealthy and influential families, they are true worldlings. Being accustomed, from their youth, to enjoy all the pleasures of their senses ; to satisfy, with- out restraint, the most brutish appetites of their bodies ; and, withal, to confess, to take sacrament, to practise the easy observances of the church, they have grown wonderfully immoral. " Hence, whenever they go along the streets, or cross the squares, the people must kneel. They do not leave the sanctuary of their palaces without being escorted PAUL AND JULIA. 809 by three ecclesiastical attendants, without reckoning the liveried escort. They require to be bowed to with the pompous title of Eminence. At the sight of their equipages, all carriages are bound to stop. Soldiers are compelled to honor them as if they were their gen- erals. When they enter a city, they compel the people to illuminate their houses, and the garrisons to fire cannons. If they sail either on a river, or, on a lake, or on the sea, governments are obliged to pay their travelling expenses, and the sailors to run up the national flag, and to pay to them royal and imperial honors." " Father Francis, are the priests sincere r " " Many are. They truly believe and practise all they preach. Of course they would resort, against an enemy of the church, to the most violent and cruel means, to poniard, poison, etc., if ordered by the bish- ops to do so : this, you know, is their duty ; but as long as they are permitted to be kind, charitable, and devoted, they are so." " Are they chaste ? " " Yes, and praiseworthy, so much so, that they are in the fire and yet do not burn. Under priestly gar- ments they are men, and behave like angels. What they suffer when handsome young women confess their frailties and sins of love to them, ears to ears, lips to lips, God alone knows. Dangerous is the electric shock ; dangerous is fire near powder ; attractive is magnet to iron. Quick and high their hearts beat ; golden and sweet are the words that drop into their ears. The butterfly that must turn round a flambeau, and not burn its wings, is to be pitied." And the father laughed. 310 PAUL AKD JULIA. " How is it that they do not suspect they are deceived by the bishops ? " " Because from infancy they have been trained by their parents to Romish belief and practices. Because afterwards the bishops have shut them up nine years in preparatory ecclesiastical schools, then four years in a theological seminary, and thus clipped the wings of their souls, fashioned them like statues, and annihilated their individuality. They have made them believe that they shall be guilty of mortal sin, and shall go to hell, if they think, feel, and act for themselves ; if they read liberal papers, periodicals, or books not indorsed by episcopal approbation ; if they read Protestant books and tracts ; if they converse on religion with learned philosophers or Protestants, without previous permis- sion ; particularly if they read the Bible for themselves. True, doubts flock to their mind ; but they do not dare entertain them, because the bishops taught them that, if they do not reject them instantly, they shall be guilty of mortal sin, and shall go to hell ; that, although the doctrines of the church are in opposition to reason, they must not yield, because by the reason that the light of a taper vanishes before the light of the sun, so their individual reason ought to vanish before the col- lective reason of the church." " Are the priests who are not sincere virtuous ? " " No. Many of them are degraded ; they are drunk- ards, gamblers, and haunt low houses. The others, who know how to save appearances, are made prebendaries, chaplains, canons, arch-priests, etc. When asked why they confess young women often ' To pardon their sins,' they answer, with a sanctimonious face. When PA TIL AND JULIA. 311 asked why they receive those women in their rooms or in the vestry often ' For the spiritual benefit of their souls committed to their guidance,' they answer. When asked why they keep women in their houses ' They are near relations of ours,' they answer; and the people believe it." Saying so, the father smiled. " What do you think of the societies of lay friars, who style themselves illiterate brothers, and wear a long black gown ? " " They do a good service ; for though ignorant, they know enough of our doctrines to instruct the children of poor families and withal teach them how to read, write, and cipher. Through their influence we keep the poor classes of people under our control." " Are they chaste r " " You know what I told you of the monks. They are pretty near alike." " What have you to say of the Sisters of Charity, who serve in hospitals? " " They are praiseworthy, and make many proselytes among the Protestants, who admire their zeal and de- votedness. As they are entirely under our command, they either poison their sufferers, or lavish upon them the tenderest cares." " Father Francis, is there any virtue in holy water ? " " As much as in white pills administered by smart physicians to nervous women. Although holy water is poured on hens, they do not lay more eggs after than before. Although it is poured on hogs and cattle, they are neither healthier nor more fruitful after than before. Although it is poured on houses, the walls and the timbers are not more solid and lasting ; flies, mosqui- 312 PAUL AND JULIA. toes, bugs, etc., are neither killed nor kept off, and the water in the wells is not made purer. Although the faithful dip their fingers into it, and make the sign of the cross with it, the devil is not kept off; they are neither healthier nor holier." " Since the use of holy water is superstitious, why is it preserved in the church ? " " To keep the people in ignorance, and to make money by it." " Father Francis, I wish to ask you if the leaders of the church believe in a purgatory ? " "No." " Why do they oblige the people to believe that there is one ? " *' Because it is the easiest way to extort their money. When a man dies, we tell his wife, ' It is your duty to free the soul of your husband from the flames of purgatory ; therefore give us money, that we may say a mass in his behalf.' We take the money, say the mass, and go to her again. ' Dear sister,' we say, ' if you give us some more money, we will say another mass ; then you will be more sure that his soul has been redeemed.' We call a third time, a fourth time, and keep on till we have wrested from her hands all the money she can dispose of, and " " But her fatherless children ! " " It is her business." " O ! " " We do even better than this. (I except many priests, who are sincere and charitable.) In Catholic countries, six out of ten faithful, who make their wills, dispose of a round sum of money to bo given PAUI, AND JULIA. 315 to the priests, that they may say masses for the repose of their souls," " Why are the faithful obliged, under the penalty of mortal sin and hell, to abstain from meat during Lent, on Fridays, Saturdays, and certain other days of the year r " " To keep them down jn submission." *' Why do you exempt them from this law, and other laws of the church, for money ? for instance, the law which prohibits marriage between relations r " " Because to us, who know, money changes vice into virtue ; money unlocks the doors of purgatory, and throws wide open the portals of heaven." And the father laughed. " Is there any virtue in beads, medals, crosses, etc., to which indulgences are attached ? " " No." " Why, then, deceive the faithful r " *' Because we make money by selling both those ob- jects and the indulgences." " Why do you force a Protestant who marries a Catholic to bring up his children in the Roman Cath- olic faith ? " " To increase the members of our church." " Why so many tapers used in the ceremonies of the church ? " " Because the people buy them ; we let them burn but a short while ; then we sell them. It is a clear and considerable income." " You ask a high price when you attend funerals. Why impose such a tax on the mourning of a bereft wife or mother ? " 27 314 PAUL AND JULIA. " We should be paid. If they are bereft, we can- not help it." " Why a distinction between the poor and the rich at funerals ? Are they not equal in the eyes of God ? " " Because we can extort more money from a rich man than from a poor man." " Please, Father Francis, tell me in a few words what you think of Romanism as a religious system." " We leaders of the church say that Romanism is a religion, but it is merely a pretence ; in reality it is nothing but a political engine to keep the people down in ignorance, political, social, and religious slavery. The church of Rome is like a flock : the faithful are the cattle, the priests are the watch dogs, the bishops and other secondary leaders are the shepherds, and the pope is the owner of the flock." As Father Francis pronounced these last words, his eyes fell on the clock, the hand of which was on the fourth hour. " Brother Paul," he said, "it will soon be daylight. Our first lesson has been long and instructive ; some other time I will give you another." " Father Francis, it is the first and last one you will give me. I know enough about Romanism and its leaders. From this very moment I am no longer a Roman Catholic ; I shall leave your convent as soon as the doors open this very morning." " You are no longer a Roman Catholic in belief ; this I understand. But do you mean that you will not profess publicly Romanism ? " f ' Yes, I do." " Are you in earnest when you say you shall leave the convent ?. " PAUL AND JULIA. 315 " Certainly ; I shall be true to my conscience. This I owe to my fellow-men, to my relations, to my moth- er, to the woman whom I love, to the gospel, and to God." Father Francis turned pale ; there was an expres- sion of disappointment and anger in his looks. " Would you go to Athens ? " " Yes, and from thence to my dear Julia." The father opened a drawer, and took out a bundle of papers. " Remember the letter of attorney which you signed before going to Russia. We have claimed and obtained after a long and costly suit in law, which has re- duced your brothers and sisters to extreme poverty your share of paternal and maternal inheritance. As a proof of what I say, you may read these papers ; " and he unrolled them. " O Heavens ! " The pallor of death spread on Paul's face, and drops of cold perspiration rolled on his forehead ; he fell in a state of lethargy. The father stared at him, and smiled. Suddenly Paul rose, and glanced at the papers. " My mother is dead ? " " She died in Constantinople." " Where are her remains ? " " She was buried by Mahometans. Her grave is unknown." " Father Francis, God orders me to forgive you ; but you should understand what are my feelings." And lie rushed to the door. Father Francis had rung the bell. Four monks seized Paul, tied his feet and his hands, and took him 316 PAUL AXD JULIA. to the dungeon of the convent. Several times a week Father Francis visited him, and made him the most flattering promises if he would remain in the convent. " I shall be true to my conscience," was the only answer of Paul. One evening Father Francis precipitately en- tered the dungeon^ " Paul," he said with a threaten- ing voice, " this very night there must be an end to your obstinacy ; choose between pleasures and dig- nities in this convent or death. Answer." " My body is in your power, but my soul is froe." The anger of Father Francis rose to madness. " You have lived your last day," he said, as he dashed out like an arrow to prepare and accomplish his murderous designs. Such was his fury that, when he shut the door on Paul, he forgot to turn the key. Paul has- tened out, ascended a retired flight of stairs, jumped through a window into the garden, and made his es- cape over the walls. He made his way out of Naples along retired and circuitous streets. Oftentimes he mei gendarmes, and great was his fear to be arrested, far he knew that Father Francis would inform the minis- ter of police of his flight, and that orders would be given to have him taken back to the convent. As he strolled in the lanes of the city groups of lazzaroni, seeing hi? monachal gown, bowed to him, and he heard them say, " This father is going to see a sick man, or to a house of joy." Long he wandered, praying God to guide his steps. At last he saw a man dressed in a Greek costume ; he went to him, addressed him in Greek, related the causes and circumstances of his escape from the convent, and requested him to lend him his assistance. " Will- ingly," was the answer : " I know how immoral, hyp- PAUL AXD JTJLIA. 317 ocritical, perfidious, and cruel are the monks. God has permitted our encounter. I have the command of a vessel bound to Athens ; I shall set off to-morrow, and will take you on board. I am the guest of one of our countrymen ; como with me, and be sure of his hearty welcome. You shall cast off your friar's gown, shall take a Greek costume, and at daylight we will em- bark." Paul grasped the hand of the captain ; no word dropped from his lips, but a big tear that rolled in his eyes, and the deep emotion expressed on his features, told his gratitude. They proceeded homeward. At sunrise they had embarked ; gendarmes came on board inquiring for a friar, a native of Greece. They made a thorough search, but Paul had absconded, so that he could not be found. Soon the wind filled the sails, and two days after, Paul landed in Athens, and went, the captain with him, to the house where he was born, and nad spent happy days. He knocked, and a stranger opened the door. " Who are you, sir ? " " Paul Basilos. I wish to see my family." " Your youngest brother has left for India, and ia iinheard of; your father died long ago : your mother died in Constantinople. Italian monks claimed your share of inheritance, and prosecuted your brothers and sisters, who thus were reduced to extreme poverty. Overwhelmed by their misfortunes, in less than two years they all were dead. This house I bought from the monks.' The sympatnizing and charitable captain addressed 318 PAUL AND JULIA. Paul words of consolation, but there is a degree of affliction which no consoling power can reach ; Paul remained in the deepest dejection. Several days had passed away when he called upon the captain, to ex- press to him his feelings of gratitude, and bid him adieu, for he had resolved to embark as a waiter on board a vessel which was to leave for Anapa. As they parted, this generous man presented him with a sum of money, saying, " Paul, accept this as a token of my friendship and sympathy for you." Once more Paul left his native land, and returned to his endeared Julia. His recollections and feelings during the passage pen cannot describe. Arrived at Anapa, he directed his steps to the valley of the Os- setes. Several days he wandered among the circuitous paths of the forest, and at last met a party of Ossctes hunters. Pleased they were to see him again, but they did not pronounce the names either of Isram or of Julia ; it seemed they feared to answer Paul's in- quiries. At last they told him that soon after he left the valley Julia died of sorrow ; that Isram survived her but a few days ; and that both were buried in the Grotto of Deliverance. Paul went to the grotto, and knelt on the grave of Julia. What passed in his soul God alone knows. When the Ossetes, informed by the hunters of his return, came to tha grotto, they found him a corpse lying on the grave ; but no traces of violent death were seen on his body. The Ossetes said, " Their souls are now united in the land of spirits ; let their earthly remains rest in the same tomb ; " and Paul was buried in Julia's* grave. PAUL AND JULIA. 319 Dear Paid and Julia, repose in peace ! Happier ye are than your friends and fellow-victims, who now drag out their lives in a foreign land far from those endeared to their hearts ! 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